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THE 



PHILOSOPHY 



MORAL FEELINGS. 



JOHN ABERCROMBIE, M.D. Oxon. & Edin. 

U 

V. P. R. S. E.; 

FELLOW OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS OF EDINBURGH I 

MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF MEDICINE OF FRANCE ; 

AND FIRST PHYSICIAN TO HER MAJESTY IN SCOTLAND. 



SIXTH EDITION. 



LONDON: 
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 

MDCCCXLI. 



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EDINBURGH : PRINTED BY BALFOUR AND JACK. 



PREFACE. 



In a former work, the Author endeavoured to 
delineate, in a simple and popular form, the 
leading facts relating to the Intellectual Powers, 
and to trace the principles which ought to guide 
us in the Investigation of Truth, The volume 
which he now offers to the public attention, is 
intended as a sequel to these Inquiries; and his 
object in it is to investigate, in the same unpre- 
tending manner, the Moral Feelings of the Hu- 
man Mind, and the principles which ought to 
regulate our volitions and our conduct as moral 
and responsible beings. The two branches of 
investigation are, in many respects, closely con- 
nected ; and on this account, it may often hap- 
pen, that, in the present work, principles are 
assumed as admitted or proved, which, in the 
former, were stated at length, with the evidence 
by which they are supported. 



IV PREFACE. 

In presenting a sixth edition of this volume, 
the Author feels most deeply the favourable 
manner in which it has been received, and the 
notice which has been bestowed upon it by 
those whose approbation he regards as a dis- 
tinction of the most gratifying kind. He had 
two objects chiefly in view when he ventured 
upon this investigation. The one was to divest 
his inquiry of all unprofitable speculation, and 
to shew that the philosophy of the moral feel- 
ings bears directly upon a practical purpose of 
the highest moment, — the mental and moral 
culture of every rational being. The other was 
to shew the close and important relation which 
exists between this science and the doctrines of 
revealed religion, and the powerful evidence 
which is derived, for the truth of both, from the 
manner in which they confirm and illustrate 
each other. These two sources of knowledge 
cannot be separated, in the estimation of any 
one who feels the deep interest of the inquiry, 
and seriously prosecutes the important ques- 
tion, — what is truth. If we attempt to erect 
the philosophy of morals into an independent 



PREFACE. 



science, we shall soon find that its highest in- 
ductions only lead us to a point beyond which 
we are condemned to wander in doubt and in 
darkness. But, on the other hand, by depre- 
ciating philosophy, or the light which is deriv- 
ed from the moral impressions of the mind, we 
deprive ourselves of a most important source 
of evidence in support of revelation. For it is 
from these impressions, viewed in connexion 
with the actual state of man, that we learn the 
necessity, and the moral probability, of a reve- 
lation ; and it is by principles existing in the 
mind that we are enabled to feel the power of 
that varied and incontrovertible evidence, by 
which revelation comes to the candid inquirer 
with all the authority of truth. 

Edinburgh, May 1841. 



CONTENTS. 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 
SECTION I. 

NATURE AND IMPORTANCE OF THE SCIENCE OP THE 
MORAL FEELINGS. 



Division of the Mental Powers into Intellectual and Moral 1 

Harmony which ought to exist between these classes 3 

Causes by which this harmony is interrupted, — and means 

of counteracting them 3 

Interest of the science of the Moral Feelings 5 

Peculiar sources of Knowledge bearing upon it, from the 

light of Conscience, and of Divine Revelation 8 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

SECTION II. 

FIRST TRUTHS IN THE SCIENCE OF THE MORAL 
FEELINGS. 

Analogy between First Truths or Intuitive Principles 
of Belief, in Intellectual, and in Moral Science II 

Classification of First Truths in Moral Science, as im- 
pressions arising out of each other, by an obvious chain 
of relations 17 

1. Perception of the nature and quality of actions, 
as just or unjust, — right or wrong ; — and a 
conviction of duties which a man owes to 
other men. 

2. Conviction of the existence and attributes of a 
Great First Cause, and Moral Governor. 

3. Conviction of Moral Responsibility. 

4. Impression of Future Existence. 
Importance of these convictions, as intuitive articles of 

belief , 19 



THE PHILOSOPHY 

OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

Analysis of Man as a Moral Being...* 29 

I. The Desires — The Affections — and Self- 
love. 
II. The Will. 
III. The Moral Principle, or Conscience. 
IV; The Moral relation of Man towards the 
Deity. 



CONTENTS. IX 



PART I. 



THE DESIRES THE AFFECTIONS AND SELF-LOVE. 



SECTION I. 

THE DESIRES...... 39 

1. Desire of the Animal Propensities 40 

2. Desire of Wealth — Avarice 41 

3. Desire of Power — Ambition 42 

4. Desire of Superiority — Emulation. 43 

5. Desire of Society.... 44 

6. Desire of Esteem or Approbation.. 45 

7. Desire of Knowledge 49 

8. Desire of Moral Improvement 51 

— Desire of Action 53 

Importance of a Due Regulation of the Desires 54 



SECTION II. 

THE AFFECTIONS 57 

I. Justice 60 

1. Justice to the Interests of others — Integrity 63 

2. Justice to the Freedom of Action of others 64 



X CONTENTS. 

3. Justice to the Reputation of others 64 

4. Justice in estimating the Conduct and Character of 

others 65 

5. Justice to the Opinions of others — Candour 67 

6. Justice to the Feelings of others 68 

7. Justice to the Moral Condition of others 69 



II. Compassion and Benevolence 71 

1. Benevolence towards the Distresses of others 74 

2. Benevolence towards the Reputation of others 75 

3. Benevolence towards the Character and Conduct of 

others, — including Forgiveness of Injuries 75 

4. Benevolence towards the Feelings of others 76 

5. Benevolence towards improving the Moral Condi- 

tion of others 78 



III. Veracity 79 

1 . The Love of Truth, in the Reception of it 81 

2. Veracity in delivering statements, — including Sin- 

cerity 83 

3. Truth of Purpose, or Correct fulfilment of Pro- 

mises 87 

IV. Friendship, Love, and Gratitude . . 88 

V. Patriotism 89 

The Domestic Affections 91 



CONTENTS. XI 

The Defensive Affections, Anger, Jealousy, 

Resentment 94 

Important Influence produced upon the exercise of the 
Affections, 

By Attention 97 

By Habit 102 

Feeling of Moral Approbation attached to the Exercise 

of the Affections 106 

Happiness arising from a due Exercise of the Affections ; 
— Influence of Temper 112 



SECTION III. 



SELF-LOVE , 117 

Sense in which the term is employed 117 

Tendency of a true and Rational Self-love 118 

Morbid Exercise of it, — Selfishness 123 

Disinterested Conduct and Self-denial 1 24 



Xll CONTENTS. 



PART II. 



OF THE WILL 126 

Simple Volition, its Origin from one of the Desires or 
Affections 126 

Operation of Moral Causes on the Will 127 

Nature of these Causes, and Source of the Diversity of 
their operation in different individuals 130 

Circumstances required for the Uniformity of their Ope- 
ration : — 

1. Knowledge 135 

Truths of Natural and Revealed Religion. 

2. Attention 139 

Its influence on Moral Decisions. 

3. Moral Habits 145 

Origin and Progress of Derangement of Mo- 
ral Harmony. 

Influence of Habits upon Character 150 

Means of Correcting Injurious Moral Ha- 
bits 151 

Practical Conclusions from these Principles. Important 

Influence of Moral Habits 153 

Necessity and Probability of Divine Aid in correcting 

Moral Derangement 154 

Influence of the Mental operation called Faith 160 



CONTENTS. Xlll 



PART III. 



OF THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, OR CONSCIENCE... 164 



Proofs of the Existence of Conscience as a Distinct Prin- 
ciple of the mind _ 165 

Nature of its Operation as the Regulating Principle 166 

Analogy between it and Reason , 168 

Its Influence in conveying an Impression of the Moral 
Attributes of the Deity 173 

Knowledge derived from this Source 174 

Comparison of the Divine Attributes with the Actual 
State of Man 177 

Difficulties arising from this Comparison removed only 
by the Christian Revelation 179 

Mental Process by which the Regulating Power of Con- 
science is Impaired or Lost 182 

Influence of this Condition upon the Judgment in regard 
to Moral Truth - 186 

Influence of Attention in Moral decisions 190 

Man's responsibility for his belief. 193 

Important relation between Moral Emotions and 
voluntarv Intellectual Processes 194 



XIV CONTENTS. 



APPENDIX TO PART III. 



§ 1. — Of the Origin and Immutability op Moral 
Distinctions, and Theories of Morals 2D 2 

Origin of our Idea of Virtue and Vice 205 

System of Mandeville 207 

of Clarke and Wollaston 209 

System of Utility 210 

Selfish System 212 

System of Paley 214 

Defect of these Systems in not acknowledging the 

Supreme Authority of Conscience 219 

Objections to the belief of a uniformity of Moral 
Feeling which have been founded on the prac- 
tices of barbarous nations 229 

System of Dr Smith, or Theory of Sympathy 232 

Province of Reason in Moral Decisions. 235 

Remarks on the Observations of some late 
Writers respecting the Corruption of Con- 
science.. 241 



§ 2. — Of the Harmony of the Moral Feelings 245 

Consistency of Character arising from this Har- 
mony, — and Defects of Character to which it is 
opposed , . . 251 



CONTENTS. XV 



PART IV. 

OF THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

TOWARDS THE DEITY 257 

View of the Divine Character in reference to this Re- 
lation 258 

Regulation of the Moral Feelings which ought to arise out 
of it 260 

1. Habitual effort to cultivate a Sense of the Di- 

vine Presence, and to regulate the Moral 
Feelings and Character by it 260 

2. Submission to the appointments of Provi- 

dence 266 

3. Sense of Moral Imperfection and Guilt, and 

Supplication for Mercy, with Reliance on 
Divine Aid 268 

4. Sense of Gratitude, Affection, and Love 269 

Conduct and Character arising out of this Condition of 

the Moral Feelings 271 

Means of Cultivating it 278 

Nature and Operation of Faith 279 

Province of Faith in the Philosophy of the Moral Feel- 
ings 284 

Truths which are its more Immediate Object 289 

Its Influence on the Moral Condition 292 

Province of Faith hi the Scheme of Christianity 298 

Certain Errors regarding Faith 304 

Harmony of Christian Truth with the Philosophy of the 

Moral Feelings 306 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



SECT. I. 

NATURE AND IMPORTANCE OF THE SCIENCE 
OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



Man is to be contemplated as an intellectual, 
and as a moral being. By his intellectual 
powers, he acquires the knowledge of facts, 
observes their connexions, and traces the con- 
clusions which arise out of them. These mental 
operations, however, even in a high state of 
cultivation, may be directed entirely to truths 
of an extrinsic kind, — that is, to such as do 
not exert any influence either on the moral 
condition of the individual, or on his relations 
to other sentient beings. They may exist in 
an eminent degree in the man who lives only 



Z PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

for himself, and feels little beyond the personal 
wants, or the selfish enjoyments of the hour 
that is passing over him. 

But, when we contemplate man as a moral 
being, new relations open on our view, — and 
these are of mightier import. We find him 
occupying a place in a great system of moral 
government, in which he has an important 
station to fill, and high duties to perform. 
We find him placed in certain relations to a 
great moral Governor, who presides over this 
system of things, and to a. future state of being 
for which the present scene is intended to pre- 
pare him. We find him possessed of powers 
which qualify him to feel these relations, and 
of principles calculated to guide him through 
the solemn responsibilities which attend his 
state of moral discipline. 

These two parts of his mental constitution 
we perceive to be remarkably distinct from 
each other. The former may be in vigorous 
exercise in him who has little feeling of his 
moral condition ; — and the latter may be in a 
high state of culture in the man, who, in point 



I 



PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 3 

of intellectual acquirement, knows little beyond 
the truths which it most concerns him to know, 
— those great but simple principles which guide 
his conduct as a responsible being. 

In a well-regulated mind, there is an intimate 
harmony and co-operation between these two 
departments of the mental economy. Know- 
ledge, received through the powers of sensation 
and simple intellect, whether relating to exter- 
nal things, or to mental phenomena, — and con- 
clusions derived from these through the powers 
of reasoning, ought all to contribute to that 
which is the highest state of man, — his purity 
as a moral being. They ought all to lend their 
aid towards the cultivation of those principles 
of his nature which bind him to his fellow-men; 
— and those higher principles still, which raise 
his feeble powers to the Eternal Incomprehen- 
sible One, the first great cause of all things, 
and the moral Governor of the universe. 

A slight degree of observation is sufficient to 
convince us, that such a regulated condition of 
the mental constitution does not exist in the 
generality of mankind. It is not my present 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



purpose to inquire into the causes by which 
this is primarily deranged; but it may be 
interesting to trace some of the circumstances 
which bear a part in producing the derange- 
ment. In our present state of being, we are 
surrounded with objects of sense; and the mind 
is kept, in a great degree, under the influence 
of external things. In this manner it often 
happens, that facts and considerations elude 
our attention, and deeds escape from our me- 
mory, in a manner which would not occur, were 
the mind left at liberty to recall its own associ- 
ations, and to feel the influence of principles 
which are really part of the mental constitu- 
tion. It is thus that, amid the bustle of life, 
the attention is apt to be engrossed by con- 
siderations of a local and an inferior character ; 
-—while facts and motives of the highest moment 
are overlooked, and deeds of our own, long gone 
by, escape from our remembrance. We thus 
lose a correct sense of our moral condition, and 
yield to the agency of present and external 
things, in a manner disproportioned to their 
real value. For our highest concern as moral 



PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. D 

beings is with things future, and things un- 
seen ; and often with circumstances in our 
own moral history, long past, and perhaps for- 
gotten. Hence the benefit of retirement and 
calm reflection, and of every thing that tends to 
withdraw us from the impression of sensible 
objects, and leads us to feel the superiority of 
things which are not seen. Under such in- 
fluence, the mind displays an astonishing power 
of recalling the past and grasping the future, 
— and of viewing objects in their true relations 
to itself and to each other. The first of these, 
indeed, we see exemplified in many affections, 
in which the mind is cut off, in a greater or * 
less degree, from its intercourse with the ex- 
ternal world, by causes acting upon the bodily 
organization. In another work I have described 
remarkable examples of the mind, in this con- 
dition, recalling its old impressions respecting 
things long past and entirely forgotten ; and 
the facts there stated call our attention in a 
very striking manner to its inherent powers 
and its independent existence. 

This subject is one of intense interest, and 



O PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

suggests reflections of the most important kind, 
respecting the powers and properties of the 
thinking principle. In particular, it leads us 
to a period, which we are taught to anticipate 
even by the inductions of intellectual science, 
when, the bodily frame being dissolved, the 
thinking and reasoning essence shall exercise 
its peculiar faculties in a higher state of being. 
There are facts in the mental phenomena which 
give a high degree of probability to the con- 
jecture, that the whole transactions of life, with 
the motives and moral history of each indivi- 
dual, may then be recalled by a process of the 
mind itself, and placed, as at a single glance, 
distinctly before him. Were we to realize such 
a mental condition, we should not fail to con- 
template the impressions so recalled, with feel- 
ings very different from those by which we are 
apt to be misled amid the influence of present 
and external things. — The tumult of life is 
over ; — pursuits, principles, and motives, which 
once bore an aspect of importance, are viewed 
with feelings more adapted to their true value. — 
The moral principle recovers that authority. 



MEANS OF CONDUCTING THE INQUIRY. i 

which, amid the contests of passion, had been 
obscured or lost ; each act and each emotion is 
seen in its relation to the great dictates of 
truth, and each pursuit of life in its real bear- 
ing on the great concerns of a moral being ; — 
and the whole assumes a character of new and 
wondrous import, when viewed in relation to 
that Incomprehensible One, who is then dis- 
closed in all his attributes as a moral Gover- 
nor. — Time past is contracted into a point, and 
that the infancy of being ; — time to come is 
seen expanding into eternal existence. 

Such are the views which open on him who 
would inquire into the essence by which man is 
distinguished as a rational and moral being. 
Compared with it, what are all the phenomena 
of nature, — what is all the history of the 
world, — the rise and fall of empires, — or the 
fate of those who rule them. These derive 
their interest from local and transient rela- 
tions, — but this is to exist for ever. That 
science, therefore, must be considered as the 
highest of all human pursuits, which contem- 



8 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

plates man in his relation to eternal things. 
With its importance we must feel its diffi- 
culties ; and, did we confine the investigation 
to the mere principles of natural science, we 
should feel these difficulties to be insurmount- 
able. But, in this great inquiry, we have two 
sources of knowledge, to which nothing ana- 
logous is to be found in the history of physical 
science, and which will prove infallible guides, 
if we resign ourselves to their direction with 
sincere desire to discover the truth. These 
are, — the light of conscience, — and the light of 
divine revelation. In making this statement, I 
am aware that I tread on delicate ground, — 
and that some will consider an appeal to the 
sacred writings as a departure from the strict 
course of philosophical inquiry. This opinion, 
1 am satisfied, is entirely at variance with 
truth ; — and, in every moral investigation, if we 
take the inductions of sound philosophy, along 
with the dictates of conscience, and the light of 
revealed truth, we shall find them to constitute 
one uniform and harmonious whole, the various 
parts of which tend, in a remarkable manner, 



MEANS OF CONDUCTING THE INQUIRY. 9 

to establish and illustrate each other. If, in- 
deed, in any investigation of moral science, we 
disregard the light which is furnished by the sa- 
cred writings, we resemble an astronomer who 
should rely entirely on his unaided sight, and 
reject those optical inventions which extend so 
remarkably the field of his vision, as to be 
to him the revelation of things not seen. Could 
we suppose a person thus entertaining doubts 
respecting the knowledge supplied by the te- 
lescope, yet proceeding in a candid manner to 
investigate its truth, he would perceive, in the 
telescopic observations themselves, principles 
developed which are calculated to remove his 
suspicions. For, in the limited knowledge which 
is furnished by vision alone, he finds difficulties 
which he cannot explain, apparent inconsisten- 
cies which he cannot reconcile, and insulated 
facts which he cannot refer to any known prin- 
ciple. But, in the more extended knowledge 
which the telescope yields, these difficulties dis- 
appear; facts are brought together which seem- 
ed unconnected or discordant; and the universe 
appears one beautiful system of order and con- 



10 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

sistency. It is the same in the experience of the 
moral inquirer, when he extends his views be- 
yond the inductions of reason, and corrects his 
conclusions by the testimony of God. Discor- 
dant principles are brought together; doubts 
and difficulties disappear ; and beauty, order, 
and harmony are seen to pervade the government 
of the Deity. In this manner there also arises 
a species of evidence for the doctrines of revela- 
tion, which is entirely independent of the exter- 
nal proofs of its divine origin ; and which, to 
the candid mind, invests it with all the charac- 
ters of authenticity and truth. 

From these combined sources of knowledge, 
thus illustrating and confirming each other, we 
are enabled to attain^ in moral inquiries, a de- 
gree of certainty adapted to their high impor- 
tance. We do so when, with sincere desire 
to discover the truth, we resign ourselves to the 
guidance of the light which is within, aided as 
it is by that light from heaven which shines upon 
the path of the humble inquirer. Cultivated on 
these principles, the science is fitted to engage 
the most powerful mind; while it will impart 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 11 

strength to the most common understanding. 
It terminates in no barren speculations, but 
tends directly to promote peace on earth, and 
good-will among men. It is calculated both to 
enlarge the understanding, and to elevate and 
purify the feelings, and thus to cultivate the 
moral being for the life which is to come. It 
spreads forth to the view, becoming smoother 
and brighter the farther it is pursued ; and the 
rays which illuminate the path converge in the 
throne of Him who is Eternal. 



SECT. II. 



OF FIRST TRUTHS IN THE PHILOSOPHY OF 
THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

The knowledge whieh we receive through our 
intellectual powers is referable to two classes. 
These may be distinguished by the names of 
acquired knowledge, and intuitive or fundamen- 



1 2 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

tal articles of belief. The former is procured 
by the active use of our mental powers, in 
collecting facts, tracing their relations, and ob- 
serving the deductions which arise out of parti- 
cular combinations of them. These constitute 
the operations which I have referred to in ano- 
ther work, under the heads of processes of in- 
vestigation, and processes of reasoning. The 
full exercise of them requires a certain culture 
of the mental faculties, and consequently is con- 
fined to a comparatively small number of men. 
We perceive, however, that such culture is not 
essential to every individual, — for many are very 
deficient in it who yet are considered as persons 
of sound mind, and capable of discharging their 
duties in various situations of life in a credita- 
ble and useful manner. 

But the knowledge which we derive from the 
other source is of immediate and essential im- 
portance to men of every degree ; and, without 
it, no individual could engage, with confidence, 
in any of the common transactions of life, or 
make any provision for his protection or com- 
fort, or even for the continuance of his existence. 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 13 

These are the principles also treated of, in a 
former work, 'under the name of First Truths. 
They are not, like our knowledge of the other 
kind, the result of any process either of investi- 
gation or of reasoning ; and, for the possession 
of them, no man either depends upon his own 
observation, or has recourse to that of other 
men. They are a part of his mental constitu- 
tion, arising, with a feeling of absolute certainty, 
in every sound mind ; and, while they admit of 
no proof by processes of reasoning, sophistical ob- 
jections brought against them can be combated 
only by an appeal to the consciousness of every 
man, and to the absolute conviction which forces 
itself upon the whole mass of mankind. 

If the Creator has thus implanted in the 
mind of man principles to guide him in his in- 
tellectual and physical relations, independently 
of any acquired knowledge, we might naturally 
expect to find him endowed, in the same 
manner, with principles adapted to his more 
important relations as a moral being. We 
might naturally expect, that, in these high con- 
cerns, he would not be left to the knowledge 



14 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS, 

whiph he might casually acquire, either through 
his own powers of investigation or reasoning, or 
through instruction received from other men. 
Impressions adapted to this important end we 
accordingly find developed in a remarkable 
manner, — and they are referable to that part 
of our constitution, which holds so important a 
place in the philosophy of the mind, by which 
we perceive differences in the moral aspect of 
actions, and approve or disapprove of them as 
right or wrong. The convictions derived from 
this source seem to occupy the same place in 
the moral system, that first truths, or intuitive 
articles of belief do in the intellectual. Like 
them, also, they admit of no direct proofs by 
processes of reasoning; and, when sophistical 
arguments are brought against them, the only 
true answer consists in an appeal to the con- 
science of every uncontaminated mind ; — by 
which we mean chiefly the consciousness of its 
own moral impressions, in a mind which has not 
been degraded in its moral perceptions by a 
course of personal depravity. This is a consi- 
deration of the utmost practical importance; 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 15 

and it will probably appear that many well-in- 
tended arguments, respecting the first principles 
of moral truth, have been inconclusive, in the 
same manner as were attempts to establish first 
truths by processes of reasoning, — because the 
line of argument adopted in regard to them was 
one of which they are not susceptible. The 
force of this analogy is in no degree weakened 
by the fact, that there is, in many cases, an 
apparent difference between that part of our 
mental constitution, on which is founded our 
conviction of first truths, and that principle 
from which is derived our impression of moral 
truth: — For the former continues the same in 
every mind which is neither obscured by idiocy 
nor distorted by insanity ; but the moral feel- 
ings become vitiated by a process of the mind 
itself, by which it has gradually gone astray 
from rectitude. Hence the difference we find 
in the decisions of different men, respecting 
moral truth, arising from peculiarities in their 
own mental condition ; — and hence that remark- 
able obscuration of mind, at which some men at 
length arrive, by which the judgment is entirely 



16 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

perverted respecting the first great principles 
of moral purity. When, therefore, we appeal 
to certain principles in the mental constitution, 
as the source of our first impressions of moral 
truth, our appeal is made chiefly to a mind 
which is neither obscured by depravity, nor be- 
wildered by the refinements of a false philoso- 
phy : — it is made to a mind in which conscience 
still holds some degree of its rightful authority, 
and in which there is a sincere and honest de- 
sire to discover the truth. These two elements 
of character must go together in every correct 
inquiry in moral science ; and, to a man in an 
opposite condition, we should no more appeal, 
in regard to the principles of moral truth, 
than we should take from the fatuous person 
or the maniac our test of those first principles 
of intellectual truth, which are allowed to 
be original elements of belief in every sound 
mind. 

To remedy the evils arising from this diver- 
sity and distortion of moral perception, is one 
of the objects of divine revelation. By means 
of it there is introduced a fixed and uniform 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 17 

standard of moral truth ; but it is of import- 
ance to remark, that, for the authority of this, 
an appeal is made to principles in the mind it- 
self, and that every part of it challenges the 
assent of the man in whom conscience has not 
lost its power in the mental economy. 

Keeping in view the distinction which has 
now been referred to, it would appear, that 
there are certain first principles of moral truth, 
which arise in the mind by the most simple pro- 
cess of reflection, — either as constituting its 
own primary moral convictions, or as following 
from its consciousness of these convictions by a 
plain and obvious chain of relations. These are 
chiefly the following. 

I. A perception of the nature and quality of 
actions, as just or unjust, — right or wrong ; — 
and a conviction of certain duties, as of justice, 
veracity, and benevolence, which every man owes 
to his fellow-men. Every man, in his own case, 
again, expects the same offices from others ; 
and, on this reciprocity of feeling is founded the 
precept, which is found to be one of universal 



18 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

obligation, to do to others as we would that 
they should do to us. 

II. From this primary moral impression there 
arises, by a most natural sequence, a conviction 
of the existence and superintendence of a great 
moral Governor of the universe, — a being of in- 
finite perfection and infinite purity. A belief 
in this Being, as the first great cause, is derived, 
as we have formerly seen, by a simple step of 
reasoning, from a survey of the works of nature, 
taken in connexion with the First Truth, that 
every event must have an adequate cause. Our 
sense of his moral attributes arises with a feel- 
ing of equal certainty, when, from the moral 
impressions of our own minds, we infer the mo- 
ral attributes of him who thus formed us. 

JUL From these combined impressions there 
naturally springs a sense of moral responsibi- 
lity — or a conviction, that, for the due perform- 
ance of the duties which are indicated by the 
conscience, or moral consciousness, man is re- 
sponsible to the Governor of the universe , — and 
farther, that to this Being he owes, more imme- 
diately, a certain homage of the moral feelings, 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 19 

entirely distinct from the duties which he owes 
to his fellow-men. 

IV. From this chain of moral convictions, it 
is impossible to separate a deep impression of 
continual existence, or of a state of being be- 
yond the present life, — and of that as a state of 
moral retribution. 

The consideration of these important objects 
of belief will afterwards occur to us in various 
parts of our inquiry. They are briefly stated 
here, in reference to the place which they hold 
as First Truths, or primary articles of moral 
belief, which arise by a natural and obvious 
chain of sequence, in the moral conviction of 
every sound understanding. For the truth of 
them we appeal not to any process of reasoning, 
properly so called, but to the conviction which 
forces itself upon every regulated mind. Nei- 
ther do we go abroad among savage nations, to 
inquire whether the impression of them be 
universal ; for this may be obscured in commu- 
nities, as it is in individuals, by a course of 
moral degradation. We appeal to the casuist 



20 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

himself, whether, in the calm moment of reflec- 
tion, he can divest himself of their power. We 
appeal to the feelings of the man who, under 
the consciousness of guilt, shrinks from the 
dread of a present Deity and the anticipation 
of a future reckoning. But chiefly we appeal 
to the conviction of him, in whom conscience 
retains its rightful supremacy, and who habitu- 
ally cherishes these momentous truths, as his 
guides in this life in its relation to the life that 
is to come. 

In applying to these important articles of 
belief the name of First Truths, or primary 
principles of moral conviction, I do not mean 
to ascribe to them any thing of the nature of 
innate ideas. I mean only that they arise, 
with a rapid or instantaneous conviction en- 
tirely distinct from what we call a process of 
reasoning, in every regulated mind, when it is 
directed, by the most simple course of reflec- 
tion, to the phenomena of nature without, and 
to the moral feelings of which it is conscious 
within. It appears to be a point of the ut- 
most importance, that we should consider them 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 21 

as thus arising out of principles which form a 
part of our moral constitution ; as it is in this 
way only that we can consider them as calcu- 
lated to influence the mass of mankind. For. 
if we do not believe them to arise, in this man- 
ner, by the spontaneous exercise of every uncor- 
rupted mind, there are only two methods by 
which we can suppose them to originate ; — the 
one is a direct revelation from the Deity, — the 
other is a process of reasoning or of investiga- 
tion, properly so called, analogous to that by 
which we acquire the knowledge of any prin- 
ciple in natural science. We cannot believe that 
they are derived entirely from revelation, because 
we find the belief existing where no revelation is 
known, and because we find the sacred writers 
appealing to them as sources of conviction exist- 
ing in the mental constitution of every man. 
There is an obvious absurdity, again, in supposing 
that principles, which are to regulate the con- 
duct of responsible beings, should be left to the 
chance of being unfolded by processes of reason- 
ing, in which different minds may arrive at differ- 
ent conclusions, and in regard to which many are 



22 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

incapable of following out any argument at all. 
What is called the argument a priori for the 
existence and attributes of the Deity, for in- 
stance, conveys little that is conclusive to most 
minds, and to many is entirely incomprehensi- 
ble. The same observation may be applied to 
those well-intended and able arguments, by 
which the probability of a future state is shewn 
from analogy and from the constitution of the 
mind. These are founded chiefly on three 
considerations, — the tendency of virtue to pro- 
duce happiness, and of vice to be followed by 
misery, — the unequal distribution of good and 
evil in the present life, — and the adaptation of 
our moral faculties to a state of being very dif- 
ferent from that in which we are at present 
placed. There is much in these arguments cal- 
culated to elevate our conceptions of our condi- 
tion as moral beings, and of that future state of 
existence for which we are destined ; and there 
is much scope for the highest powers of reason- 
ing, in shewing the accordance of these truths 
with the soundest inductions of true philosophy. 
But, notwithstanding all their truth and all 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 23 

their utility, it may be doubted whether they 
are to any one the foundation of his faith in 
another state of being. It must be admitted, 
at least, that their force is felt by those only 
whose minds have been in some degree trained 
to habits of reasoning, and that they are there- 
fore not adapted to the mass of mankind. But 
the truths which they are intended to establish 
are of eternal importance to men of every de- 
gree, and we should therefore expect them to 
rest upon evidence which finds its way with un- 
erring aim to the hearts of the unlearned. The 
unanswerable reasonings of Butler never reach- 
ed the ear of the grey-haired pious peasant ; 
but he needs not their powerful aid to establish 
his sure and certain hope of a blessed immortal- 
ity. It is no induction of logic that has trans- 
fixed the heart of the victim of deep remorse, 
when he withers beneath an influence unseen 
by human eye, and shrinks from the anticipa- 
tion of a reckoning to come. In both, the evi- 
dence is within, — a part of the original consti- 
tution of every rational mind, planted there by 
him who framed the wondrous fabric. This is 



24 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

the power of conscience ; — with an authority, 
which no man can put away from him, it pleads 
at once for his own future existence, and for 
the moral attributes of an omnipotent and ever- 
present Deity. In a healthy state of the moral 
feelings, the man recognises its claim to su- 
preme dominion. Amid the degradation of 
guilt, it still raises its voice and asserts its 
right to govern the whole man ; and, though 
its warnings are disregarded, and its claims dis- 
allowed, it proves within his inmost soul an 
accuser that cannot be stilled, and an avenging 
spirit that never is quenched. 

Similar observations apply to the uniformity 
of moral distinctions, or the conviction of a 
certain line of conduct which man owes to his 
fellow-men. There have been many contro- 
versies and various contending systems in refer- 
ence to this subject; but I submit that the 
question may be disposed of in the same manner 
as the one now mentioned. Certain fixed and 
defined principles of relative duty appear to be 
recognised by the consent of mankind, as an 
essential part of their moral constitution, by as 



FIEST TRUTHS IX MORAL SCIENCE. 25 

absolute a conviction as that by which are 
recognised our bodily qualities. The hardened 
criminal, whose life has been a course of injus- 
tice and fraud, when at length brought into 
circumstances which expose him to the know- 
ledge or the retribution of his fellow-men, ex- 
pects from them veracity and justice, or perhaps 
even throws himself upon their mercy. He 
thus recognises such principles as a part of the 
moral constitution, just as the blind man, when 
he has missed his way, asks direction of the 
first person he meets, — presuming upon the 
latter possessing a sense which, though lost to 
him, he still considers as belonging to every 
sound man. In defending himself, also, the 
criminal shews the same recognition. For, his 
object is to disprove the alleged facts, or to 
frame excuses for his conduct; — he never at- 
tempts to question those universal principles by 
which he feels that his actions must be con- 
demned, if the facts are proved against him. 
Without such principles, indeed, thus univer- 
sally recognised, it is evident that the whole 
system of human things would go into confusion 



i 



26 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

and ruin. Human laws may restrain or punish 
gross acts of violence and injustice ; but they 
can never provide for numberless methods by 
which a man may injure his neighbour, or pro- 
mote his own interest at the expense of others. 
There are, in fact, but a very few cases which 
can be provided for by any human institution ; 
it is a principle within that regulates the whole 
moral economy. In its extent and importance, 
when compared with all the devices of man, it 
may be likened to those great principles which 
guide the movements of the universe, contrasted 
with the contrivances by which men produce 
particular results for their own convenience ; 
and one might as well expect to move a planet 
by machinery, or propel a comet by the power 
of steam, as to preserve the semblance of order 
in the moral world, without those fundamental 
principles of rectitude which form a part of the 
original constitution of every rational being. 

Farther, as each man has the consciousness 
of these principles in himself, he has the con- 
viction that similar principles exist in others. 
Hence arises the impression, that, as he judges 






FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 27 

of their conduct by his own moral feelings, so 
will they judge of him by corresponding feelings 
in themselves. In this manner is produced 
that reciprocity of moral impression, by which 
a man feels the opinion of his fellow-men to be 
either a reward or a punishment; and hence 
also springs that great rule of relative duty, 
which teaches us to do to others as we would 
that they should do to us. This uniformity of 
moral feeling and affection even proves a check 
upon those who have subdued the influence of 
these feelings in themselves. Thus, a man who 
has thrown off all sense of justice, compassion, 
or benevolence, is still kept under a certain 
degree of control by the conviction of these 
impressions existing in those by whom he is 
surrounded. There are indeed men in the 
world, as has been remarked by Butler, in 
whom this appears to be the only restraint 
to which their conduct is subjected. 

Upon the whole, therefore, there seems to be 
ground for assuming, that the articles of be- 
lief, which have been the subject of the preced- 
ing observations, are primary principles arising 



28 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

with an immediate feeling of conviction in our 
moral constitution ; and that they correspond 
with those elements in our intellectual economy, 
which are commonly called First Truths, — 
principles which are now universally admitted 
to require no other evidence than the conviction 
which forces itself upon every sound under- 
standing. 



N 



PHILOSOPHY 



THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



When we analyze the principles which distin- 
guish man as a moral being, our attention is 
first directed to his actions, as the external 
phenomena by which we judge of his internal 
principles. It is familiar to every one, how- 
ever, that the same action may proceed from 
very different motives, and that, when we have 
the means of estimating motives or principles, 
it is from these that we form our judgment 
respecting the moral condition of the individual, 
and not from his actions alone. When we 
consider separately the elements which enter 



\ 



30 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

into the economy of an intelligent and respon- 
sible agent, they seem to resolve themselves 
into the following : — 

I. His actual conduct, or actions. 

II. In determining his conduct, the immediate 
principle is his will, or simple volition. He wills 
some act, — and the act follows of course, unless 
it be prevented by restraint from without, or 
by physical inability to perform it. These alone 
can interfere with a man following the determi- 
nation of his will, or simple volition. 

III. The objects of will or simple volition are 
referable to two classes, — objects to be obtain- 
ed, — and actions to be performed to others ; — 
and these are connected with two distinct men- 
tal conditions, which exist previously to the act 
of volition. In regard to objects to be obtained, 
this mental condition is Desire ; — in regard to 
actions towards others, it is Affection. The 
Desires and Affections, therefore, hold a place 
in the mind previous to volition. From one of 



i 



ANALYSIS OP THE MORAL FEELINGS. 31 

them originates the mental state, which, under 
certain regulations, leads to volition, or to our 
willing a certain act. The act, which is then 
the result of the volition, consists either in cer- 
tain efforts towards attaining the object desir- 
ed, — or in certain conduct towards other men, 
arising out of our affections or mental feelings 
towards them. The Desires and Affections, 
therefore, may be considered as the primary 
or moving powers, from which our actions pro- 
ceed. In connection with them we have to keep 
in view another principle, which has an exten- 
sive influence on our conduct in regard to both 
these classes of emotions. This is Self-lorn ; — 
which leads us to seek our own protection, com- 
fort, and advantage. It is a sound and legiti- 
mate principle of action when kept in its proper 
place ; — when allowed to usurp an undue influ- 
ence, it degenerates into selfishness ; and it then 
interferes in a material degree with the exer- 
cise of the affections, or, in other words, with 
our duty to other men. 

IV. We have next to attend to the fact, that 



32 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

every desire is not followed by actual volition 
towards obtaining the object; — and that every 
affection does not lead to the conduct which 
might flow from it. Thus a man may feel a de- 
sire which, after consideration, he determines 
not to gratify. Another may experience an af- 
fection, and not act upon it ; — he may feel be- 
nevolence or friendship, and yet act, in the par- 
ticular case, with cold selfishness ; — or he may 
feel the impulse of anger, and yet conduct him- 
self with forbearance. When, therefore, we go 
another step backwards in the chain of moral 
sequences, our attention is directed to certain 
principles by which the determination is actual- 
ly decided, — either according to the desire or 
affection which is present to the mind, or in 
opposition to it. This brings us to a subject of 
the utmost practical importance: — and the prin- 
ciples, which thus decide the determination of 
the mind, are referable to two heads. 

(1.) The determination or decision may arise 
out of a certain state of arrangement of the mov- 
ing powers -themselves, in consequence of which, 
some one of them has acquired a predominating 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 33 

influence in the moral system. This usually re- 
sults from habit, or frequent indulgence, as we 
shall see in a subsequent part of our inquiry. 
A man, for example, may desire an object, but 
perceive that the attainment would require a 
degree of exertion greater than he is disposed 
to devote to it ; this is the preponderating love 
of ease, a branch of self-love. Another may 
perceive that the gratification would impair his 
good name, or the estimation in which he is 
anxious to stand in the eyes of other men;- — 
this is the predominating love of approbation, 
or regard to character. In the same manner, 
a third may feel that it would interfere with his 
schemes of avarice or ambition, — and so in re- 
gard to the other desires. On a similar princi- 
ple, a man may experience a strong impulse of 
anger, but perceive that there would be danger 
in gratifying it, or that he would promote his 
reputation or his interest by not acting upon 
it ; — he may experience a benevolent affection, 
but feel that the exercise would interfere too 
much with his personal interest or comfort. 
(2.) The determination may arise from a sense 

c 



34 ANALYSIS OF THE MOKAL FEELINGS. 

of duty, or an impression of moral rectitude, 
apart from every consideration of a personal na- 
ture. This is the Moral Principle or Conscience ; 
— in every mind in a state of moral health, it is 
the supreme and regulating principle, preserv- 
ing among the moving powers a certain har- 
mony to each other, and to the principles of 
moral rectitude. It often excites to conduct 
which requires a sacrifice of self-love, and so pre- 
vents this principle from interfering with the 
sound exercise of the affections. It regulates 
the desires, and restrains them by the simple 
rule of purity ; — it directs and regulates the af- 
fections in the same manner by the high sense 
of moral responsibility ; and it thus maintains 
order and harmony in the whole moral system. 
One of the chief diversities of human charac- 
ter, indeed, arises from the circumstance of one 
man being habitually influenced by the simple 
and straight-forward principle of duty, and ano- 
ther merely by a kind of contest between desires 
and motives of a very inferior or selfish nature. 
Thus also we acquire a knowledge of the moral 
temperament of different men, and learn to 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 35 

adapt our measures accordingly in our transac- 
tions with them. In endeavouring, for example, 
to excite three individuals to some act of use- 
fulness, we come to know, that in one we have 
only to appeal to his sense of duty ; in another 
to his vanity or love of approbation ; while we 
have no hope of making any impression on the 
third, unless we can make it appear to bear 
upon his interest. 

V. The principles referred to under the pre- 
ceding heads are chiefly those which regulate 
the connexion of man with his fellow-men. 
But there is another class of emotions, in their 
nature distinct from these ; though, in a prac- 
tical point of view, they are much connected. 
These are the emotions which arise out of his 
relation to the Deity. The regulation of the 
moral feelings in reference to this relation, 
will therefore come to be considered in a de- 
partment of the inquiry devoted to themselves, 
in connexion with the views of the character 
and attributes of God, which we obtain from 
the light of reason and conscience. 



36 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

This analysis of the principles which consti- 
tute the moral feelings indicates the farther di- 
vision of our inquiry in the following manner : — 

I. The Desires, — the Affections, — and Self- 
love. 

II. The Will. 

III. The Moral Principle, or Conscience. 

IV. The moral relation of man towards the 
Deity. 

These constitute what may be called the ac- 
tive principles of man, or those which are cal- 
culated to decide his conduct as a moral and 
responsible being. In connexion with them, 
there is another class of feelings, which may be 
called passive or connecting emotions. They 
exert a considerable influence of a secondary 
kind ; but, in an Essay which is meant to be 
essentially practical, it perhaps will not be ne- 
cessary to do more than enumerate them in such 
a manner, as to point out their relation to the 
active principles. 

When an object presents qualities on account 
of which we wish to obtain it, we feel desire. 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 37 

If we have reason to think that it is within our 
reach, we experience hope; and the effect of 
this is to encourage us in our exertions. If we 
arrive at such a conviction as leaves no doubt 
of the attainment, this is confidence, one of the 
forms of that state of mind which we call faith. 
If we see no prospect of attaining it, we give 
way to despair, — and this leads us to abandon 
all exertion for the attainment. When we ob- 
tain the object, we experience pleasure or joy ; 
if w T e are disappointed, we feel regret. If, again, 
we have the prospect of some evil which threat- 
ens us, we experience fear, and are thereby ex- 
cited to exertions for averting it. If we succeed 
in doing so, we experience joy ; if not, we feel 
sorrow. If the evil seem unavoidable, we again 
give way to despair, and are thus led to relin- 
quish all attempts to avert it. — Similar emotions 
attend on the affections. When we experience 
an affection, we desire to be able to act upon it. 
When we see a prospect of doing so, we hope ; 
if there seem to be none, we despair of accom- 
plishing our object. When we have acted upon 
a benevolent affection, or according to the die- 



38 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

tates of the moral principle, we experience self- 
approbation ; when the contrary, we feel remorse. 
When either a desire or an affection has ac- 
quired an undue influence, so as to carry us for- 
ward in a manner disproportioned to its real 
and proper tendencies, it becomes a passion. 



PART I. 



OF THE DESIRES, THE AFFECTIONS, AND 
SELF-LOVE. 



SECT. I. 

THE DESIRES. 



Desire is the iinmediate movement or act of the 
mind towards an object which presents some 
quality on account of which we wish to obtain 
it. The objects of desire, therefore, embrace 
all those attainments and gratifications, which 
mankind consider worthy of being sought after. 
The object pursued in each particular case, is 
determined by the views, habits, and moral dis- 
positions of the individual. In this manner, 
one person may regard an object as above every 
other worthy of being sought after, which to 
another appears insignificant or worthless. The 



40 DESIRES. 

principles which regulate these diversities, and 
consequently form some of the great differences 
in human character, belong to a subsequent 
part of our inquiry. 

In forming a classification of the desires, we 
must be guided simply by the nature of the va- 
rious objects which are desired. Those which 
may be specified as the most prevalent, and the 
most clearly to be distinguished as separate, 
may be referred to the following heads. 

I. The gratification of the animal propensi- 
ties, — commonly called the appetites. These, 
which we possess in common with the lower 
animals, are implanted in us for important pur- 
poses ; but they require to be kept under the 
most rigid control, both of reason and of the 
moral principle. When they are allowed to 
break through these restraints, and become 
leading principles of action, they form a charac- 
ter the lowest in the scale, whether intellectual 
or moral ; and it is impossible to contemplate a 
more degraded condition of a rational and moral 
being. The consequences to society are also of 



ANIMAL PROPENSITIES WEALTH. 41 

the most baneful nature. Without alluding to 
the glutton or the drunkard, what accumu- 
lated guilt, degradation, and wretchedness fol- 
low the course of the libertine, — blasting what- 
ever comes within the reach of his influence, 
and extending a demoralizing power alike to 
him who inflicts and to those who suffer the 
wrong. Thus is constituted a class of evils, of 
which no human law can take any adequate 
cognizance, and which therefore raise our views, 
in a special and peculiar manner, to a supreme 
Moral Governor. 

II. The Desire of Wealth, commonly called 
Avarice ; — though avarice is perhaps justly to 
be regarded as the morbid excess or abuse of 
the propensity. This is properly to be consi- 
dered as originating in the desire to possess the 
means of procuring other gratifications. But, 
by the influence of habit, the desire is transfer- 
red to the thing itself; and it often becomes a 
kind of mania, in which there is the pure love 
of gain, without the application of it to any 
other kind of enjoyment. It is a propensity 



42 DESIRES. 

which may, in a remarkable manner, engross 
the whole character, acquiring strength by con- 
tinuance ; and it is then generally accompanied 
by a contracted selfishness, which considers no- 
thing as mean or unworthy that can be made 
to contribute to the ruling passion. This may 
be the case even when the propensity is regu- 
lated by the rules of justice; — if it break through 
this restraint, it leads to fraud, extortion, de- 
ceit, and injustice, — and, under another form, 
to theft or robbery. It is therefore always in 
danger of being opposed to the exercise of the 
benevolent affections, leading a man to live for 
himself, and to study only the means calculated 
to promote his own interest. 

III. The Desire of Power, or Ambition. 
This is the love of ruling, — or giving the law to 
a circle whether more or less extensive. When 
it becomes the governing propensity, the strong- 
est principles of human nature give way before 
it,< — even those of personal comfort and safety. 
This we see in the conqueror, who braves every 
danger, difficulty, and privation, for the attain- 



POWER — -SUPERIORITY. 43 

ment of power ; and in the statesman, who sa- 
crifices for it every personal advantage, perhaps 
health and peace. The principle, however, as- 
sumes another form, which, according to its di- 
rection, may aim at a higher object. Such is 
the desire of exercising power over the minds of 
men ; of persuading a multitude, by arguments 
or eloquence, to deeds of usefulness ; of plead- 
ing the cause of the oppressed ; — a power of in- 
fluencing the opinions of others, and of guiding 
them into sound sentiments and virtuous con- 
duct. This is a species of power, the most gra- 
tifying by far to an exalted and virtuous mind, 
and one calculated to carry benefit to others 
wherever it is exerted. 

IV. The Desire of Superiority, or Emulation. 
This is allied to the former, except that it does 
not include any direct wish to rule, but aims 
simply at the acquirement of pre-eminence. It 
is a propensity of extensive influence, and not 
easily confined within the bounds of correct prin- 
ciple. It is apt to lead to undue means for the 
accomplishment of its object ; and every real or 



44 DESIRES. 

imagined failure tends to excite hatred and envy. 
Hence it requires the most careful regulation, 
and, when much encouraged in the young, is 
not free from the danger of generating malig- 
nant passions. Its influence and tendency, as 
in other desires, depend in a great measure on 
the objects to which it is directed. It may be 
seen in the man who seeks to excel his asso- 
ciates in the gaiety of his apparel, the splendour 
of his equipage, or the luxury of his table. It 
is found in him whose proud distinction is to be 
the most fearless rider at a steeple-chase or a 
fox-hunt, — or to perform some other exploit, 
the only claim of which to admiration consists 
in its never having been performed before. 
The same principle, directed to more worthy 
objects, may influence him who seeks to be 
distinguished in some high pursuit, calculat- 
ed to confer a lasting benefit upon his country, 
or on human kind. 

V. The Desire of Society. This has been 
considered by most writers on the subject as a 
prominent principle of human nature, shewing 



SOCIETY ESTEEM. 45 

itself at all periods of life, and in all conditions 
of civilization. In persons shut up from inter- 
course with their fellow-men, it has manifested 
itself in the closest attachment to animals ; as 
if the human mind could not exist without some 
object on which to exercise the feelings intend- 
ed to bind man to his fellows. It is found in 
the union of men in civil society and social in- 
tercourse, — in the ties of friendship, and the 
still closer union of the domestic circle. It is 
necessary for the exercise of all the affections ; 
and even our weaknesses require the presence 
of other men. There would be no enjoyment 
of rank or wealth, if there were none to admire; 
— and even the misanthrope requires the pres- 
ence of another to whom his spleen may be ut- 
tered. The abuse of this principle leads to the 
contracted spirit of party. 

VI. The Desire of Esteem and Approbation. 
This is a principle of most extensive influence, 
and is in many instances the source of worthy 
and useful displays of human character. Though 
inferior to the high sense of moral obligation, 



46 



DESIRES. 



it may yet be considered a laudable principle, 
- — as when a man seeks the approbation of 
others by deeds of benevolence, public spirit, or 
patriotism, — by actions calculated to promote 
the advantage or the comfort either of commu- 
nities or individuals. In the healthy exercise 
of it, a man desires the approbation of the 
good; — in the distorted use of it, he seeks 
merely the praise of a party, or perhaps, by 
deeds of a frivolous or even vicious character, 
aims at the applause of associates whose praise 
is worthless. According to the object to which 
it is directed, therefore, the desire of approba- 
tion may be the attribute either of a virtuous or 
a perverted mind. But it is a principle, which, 
in general, we expect to find operating in every 
well-regulated mind, under certain restrictions. 
Thus a man who is totally regardless of charac- 
ter, — that is, of the opinion of all others re- 
specting his conduct, we commonly consider as 
a person lost to correct virtuous feeling. On 
the other hand, however, there may be instances 
in which it is the quality of a man of the great- 
est mind to pursue some course to which, from 



ESTEEM AND APPROBATION. 47 

adequate motives, he has devoted himself, re- 
gardless alike of the praise or the disapproba- 
tion of other men. The character in which the 
love of approbation is a ruling principle is 
therefore modified by the direction of it. To 
desire the approbation of the virtuous, leads to 
conduct of a corresponding kind, and to steadi- 
ness and consistency in such conduct. To seek 
the approbation of the vicious, leads, of course, 
to an opposite character. But there is a third 
modification, presenting a subject of some inte- 
rest, in which the prevailing principle of the 
man is a general love of approbation, without 
any discrimination of the characters of those 
whose praise is sought, or of the value of the 
qualities on account of which he seeks it. This 
is vanity ; and it produces a conduct wavering 
and inconsistent, — perpetually changing with 
the circumstances in which the individual is 
placed. It often leads him to aim at admira- 
tion for distinctions of a very trivial character, 
— or even for qualities which he does not really 
possess. It thus includes the love of flattery. 
Pride, on the other hand, as opposed to vanity, 



48 DESIRES. 

seems to consist in a man entertaining a high 
opinion of himself, while he is indifferent to the 
opinion of others ; — thus we speak of a man who 
is too proud to be vain. 

Our regard to the opinions of others is the 
origin of our respect to character, in matters 
which do not come under the higher principle 
of morals; and it is of extensive influence in 
promoting the harmonies, proprieties, and de- 
cencies of society. It is thus the foundation of 
good breeding, and leads to kindness and ac- 
commodation in little matters which do not 
belong to the class of duties. It is also the 
source of what we usually call decorum and 
propriety, which lead a man to conduct himself 
in a manner becoming his character and cir- 
cumstances, in regard to things which do not 
involve any higher principle. For, apart en- 
tirely from any consideration either of morality 
or benevolence, there is a certain line of conduct 
which is unbecoming in all men ; and there is 
conduct which is becoming in some, though it 
might not in other men, — and in some circum- 
stances, though it might not be so in others. 



ESTEEM KNOWLEDGE. 49 

It is unnecessary to add, how much of a man's 
respectability in life often depends upon finding 
his way, with proper discrimination, through 
the relations of society which are amenable to 
this principle , or, by how many actions, which 
are not really wrong, a man may render him- 
self despised and ridiculous. The love of esteem 
and approbation is also of extensive influence 
in the young, — both in the conduct of educa- 
tion and the cultivation of general character ; 
and it is not liable to the objections, formerly 
referred to, which apply to the principle of 
Emulation. It leads also to those numerous 
expedients by which persons of various charac- 
ter seek for themselves notoriety or a name : or 
desire to leave a reputation behind them, when 
they are no more. This is the love of post- 
humous fame, a subject which has afforded an 
extensive theme both for the philosopher and 
the humorist. 

VII. The Desire of Knowledge, or of Intel- 
lectual Improvement, — including the principle 
of Curiosity. The tendency of this high prin- 



50 DESIRES. 

ciple must depend, as in the former cases, on 
its regulation, and the objects to which it is 
directed. These may vary from the idle tattle 
of the day, to the highest attainments in litera- 
ture or science. The principle may be applied 
to pursuits of a frivolous or useless kind, and to 
such acquirements as lead only to pedantry or 
sophism ; — or it may be directed to a desultory 
application, which leads to a superficial ac- 
quaintance with a variety of subjects, without a 
correct knowledge of any of them. On the 
other hand, the pursuit of knowledge may be 
allowed to interfere with important duties which 
we owe to others, in the particular situation in 
which we are placed. A well-regulated judg- 
ment conducts the propensity to worthy ob- 
jects ; and directs it in such a manner as to 
make it most useful to others. With such due 
regulation, the principle ought to be carefully 
cultivated in the young. It is closely connected 
with that activity of mind which seeks for 
knowledge on every subject that comes within 
its reach, and is ever on the watch to make its 
knowledge more correct and more extensive. 



MORAL IMPROVEMENT. 51 

VIII. The Desire of Moral Improvement. 
This leads to the highest state of man : and it 
bears this peculiar character, that it is adapted 
to men in every scale of society, and tends to 
diffuse a beneficial influence around the circle 
with which the individual is connected. The 
desire of power may exist in many, but its 
gratification is limited to a few : — he who fails 
may become a discontented misanthrope ; and 
he who succeeds may be a scourge to his 
species. The desire of superiority or of praise 
may be misdirected in the same manner, lead- 
ing to insolent triumph on the one hand,,, and 
envy on the other. Even the thirst for know- 
ledge may be abused, and many are placed in 
circumstances in which it cannot be gratified. 
But the desire of moral improvement commends 
itself to every class of society, and its object is 
attainable by all. In proportion to its intensity 
and its steadiness, it tends to make the pos- 
sessor both a happier and a better man, and to 
render him the instrument of diffusing happi- 
ness and usefulness to all who come within the 
reach of his influence. If he be in a superior 



52 



DESIRES. 



station, these results will be felt more exten- 
sively ; if he be in a humble sphere, they may 
be more limited ; but their nature is the same, 
and their tendency is equally to elevate the 
character of man. This mental condition con- 
sists, as we shall afterwards have occasion to 
shew more particularly, in a habitual recogni- 
tion of the supreme authority of conscience 
over the whole intellectual and moral system, 
and in a habitual effort to have every desire 
and every affection regulated by the moral 
principle, and by a sense of the divine will. 
It leads to a uniformity of character which can 
never flow from any lower source, and to a 
conduct distinguished by the anxious discharge 
of every duty, and the practice of the most 
active benevolence. 

The Emotions which have been now briefly 
mentioned seem to include the more important 
of those which pertain to the class of Desires. 
There is, however, another principle which 
ought to be mentioned as a leading peculiarity 
of human nature, though it may be somewhat 
difficult to determine the class to which it 



ACTION. 53 

belongs. This is the desire of Action, — the 
restless activity of mind, which leads it to re- 
quire some object on which its powers must be 
exercised, and without which it preys upon 
itself and becomes miserable. On this princi- 
ple we are to explain several facts which are of 
frequent observation. A person accustomed to 
a life of activity longs for ease and retirement, 
and, when he has accomplished his purpose, finds 
himself wretched. The frivolous engagements 
of the unoccupied are referable to the same 
principle. They arise, not from any interest 
which such occupations really possess, but simply 
from the desire of mental excitement, — the fe- 
licity of having something to do. The pleasure 
of relaxation, indeed, is known to those only 
who have regular and interesting employment. 
Continued relaxation soon becomes a weari- 
ness ; and, on this ground, we may safely assert, 
that the greatest degree of real enjoyment be- 
longs, not to the luxurious man of wealth, or 
the listless votary of fashion, but to the middle 
classes of society, who, along with the comforts 
of life, have constant and important occupa- 



54 DESIRES. 

tion. Apart, indeed, from actual suffering, I 
believe there is nothing in the external circum- 
stances of individuals, of greater or more habi- 
tual importance for promoting personal happi- 
ness, than stated, rational, and interesting 
employment. 

The mental condition which we call Desire 
appears to lie in a great measure at the founda- 
tion of character ; — and, for a sound moral 
condition, it is required that the desires be 
directed to worthy objects, — and that the de- 
gree or strength of them be accommodated to 
the true and relative value of each of these 
objects. If the desires are thus directed, 
worthy conduct will be likely to follow in a 
steady and uniform manner. If they are al- 
lowed to break from the restraints of reason 
and the moral principle, the man is left at the 
mercy of unhallowed passion, and is liable to 
those irregularities which naturally result from 
such a derangement of the moral feelings. If, 
indeed, we would see the evils produced by 
desire, when not thus controlled, we have only 



REGULATION OF DESIRES. 55 

to look at the whole history of human kind. 
What accumulated miseries arise from the 
want of due regulation of the animal propen- 
sities, in the various forms in which it degrades 
the character of rational and moral beings. — 
What evils spring from the love of money, and 
from the desire of power ; — from the contests 
of rivals, and the tumults of party, — what envy, 
hatred, malignity, and revenge. — What compli- 
cated wretchedness follows the train of ambi- 
tion, — contempt of human suffering, countries 
depopulated, and fields deluged with blood. 
Such are the results of desire, when not direct- 
ed to objects worthy of a moral being, and not 
kept under the rigid control of conscience, and 
the immutable laws of moral rectitude. When, 
in any of these forms, a sensual or selfish pro- 
pensity is allowed to pass the due boundary 
which is fixed for it by reason and the moral 
principle, the mental harmony is destroyed, and 
even the judgment itself comes to be impaired 
and distorted in that highest of all inquiries, 
the search after moral truth. 

The desires, indeed, may exist in an ill-regu- 



56 DESIRES. 

lated state, while the conduct is yet restrained 
by various principles, such as submission to 
human laws, a regard to character, or even a 
certain feeling of what is morally right, con- 
tending with the vitiated principle within. But 
this cannot be considered as the healthy condi- 
tion of a moral being. It is only when the 
desire itself is sound, that we can say the man 
is in moral health. "He who grieves at his 
abstinence," says Aristotle, " is a voluptu- 
ary ;" — and this also is the great principle so 
strikingly enforced in the sacred writings ; 
" Keep thy heart with all diligence, because out 
of it are the issues of life." " Blessed are the 
pure in heart, for they shall see God." Thus, 
there are desires which are folly, and there are 
desires which are vice, even though they should 
not be followed by indulgence ; and there are 
desires which tend to purify and elevate the 
moral nature, though their objects should be 
beyond the reach of our full attainment in the 
present state of being. Perfect moral purity is 
not the lot of man in this transient state, and 
is not to be attained by his own unaided efforts. 



AFFECTIONS. 57 

But, subservient to it is that warfare within, 
that earnest and habitual desire after the per- 
fection of a moral being, which is felt to be the 
great object of life, when it is viewed in rela- 
tion to the life which is to come. For this 
attainment, however, man must feel his total 
inadequacy, — and the utmost efforts of human 
reason have failed in unfolding the requisite 
aid. The conviction is thus forced upon us, 
that a higher influence is necessary, and this 
influence is fully disclosed by the light of re- 
vealed truth. We are there taught to look for 
a power from on high, capable of effecting what 
human efforts cannot accomplish, — the purifica- 
tion of the heart. 



SECT. II. 

THE AFFECTIONS. 



As the desires are calculated to bring some gra- 
tification to ourselves, the Affections lead us to 



58 



AFFECTIONS. 



our relations to other men, and to a certain 
line of conduct which arises out of these rela- 
tions. They are to be viewed as original prin- 
ciples of our nature, planted in us for wise pur- 
poses, and the operation of them is to be consi- 
dered as distinct, both from that of the moral 
principle and of reason, — that is, from any sense 
of duty or the moral rectitude of the conduct 
to which they lead, and from any calculation of 
its propriety and utility. Thus, when the mo- 
ther devotes her attention by day and night to 
her infant, if from sickness or helplessness in 
want of her special care, and perseveres in doing 
so, with total disregard to her own ease, health, 
or comfort, she is not influenced either by a 
sense of duty, or by any feeling of the utility of 
her conduct : she acts upon an impulse within, 
which she feels to be a part of her constitution, 
and which carries her forward in a particular 
course of anxious and protracted exertion by 
the power of itself alone. This distinction ap- 
pears to be of the utmost practical importance, 
and we shall have occasion to refer to it more 
particularly in the sequel. 



AFFECTIONS. 59 

An Affection, therefore, may be considered 
as an original feeling or emotion existing in 
ourselves, which leads us to a particular con- 
duct towards other men, without reference to 
any principle except the intuitive impulse of the 
emotion itself. The Affections have been di- 
vided into the Benevolent and Malevolent ; but 
these titles appear to be incorrect, especially 
the latter, — as the due exercise of the emotions 
to which it refers does not properly include 
what is called malevolence. They only tend to 
guard against certain conduct in other men; 
and, when they are allowed to go beyond this, 
that is, to actual malevolence or revenge, the 
application is morbid. It will therefore accord 
better with the nature of these emotions, to 
give them the names of Uniting and Defensive 
Affections ; — the former including justice, bene- 
volence, veracity, friendship, love, gratitude, pa- 
triotism, and the domestic affections ; — the lat- 
ter, jealousy, disapprobation, and anger. 



60 AFFECTIONS, 



I. JUSTICE. 

There may be some difference of opinion in 
regard to the propriety of including justice 
among the affections ; but it seems to be more 
nearly allied to them than to any of the other 
classes of moral emotions which have been men- 
tioned, and it may, therefore, as a mere matter 
of arrangement, be conveniently introduced here. 
Strictly speaking, it might perhaps be considered 
as a combined operation of an affection and the 
moral principle; but this is matter of speculation 
alone. The important consideration relating to 
it is, — that, in whatever manner it arises, the 
sense of Justice is a primary and essential part 
of our moral constitution, conveying the distinct 
impression of certain conduct which a man owes 
to his fellow-men, without regard to any consi- 
derations of a personal nature, and apart from 
all positive enactments or laws, either divine or 
human. The requirements of Justice embrace 
certain points in which every man has an abso- 
lute right, and in regard to which it is the ab- 



JUSTICE. 61 

solute duty of every other man not to interfere 
with him. These rights have usually been di- 
vided into three classes ; — what I have a right 
to possess, and no man has any right to take 
from me, — what I have a right to do, and no 
man has any title to prevent me from doing, — 
what I have a right to expect from other men, 
and it is their absolute duty to perform. These 
principles form the basis of what is called Natu- 
ral Jurisprudence, a code of relative duty de- 
riving its authority from impressions which are 
found in the moral feelings of all mankind, with- 
out regard to the enactments of any particular 
civil society. In the actual arrangements of 
civil communities, these great principles of jus- 
tice are combined with others which are derived 
merely from utility or expediency, as calculated 
to promote the peace or the advantage of the 
community. These may differ in different coun- 
tries, and they cease to be binding when the 
enactments on which they rest are abrogated 
or changed. But no difference of place can 
alter, and no laws can destroy, the essential 
requirements of justice. 



62 



AFFECTIONS. 



In these observations, it will be remarked, 
the word Justice is used as expressing a prin- 
ciple of individual character ; and it is in this 
sense that it is to be properly classed with the 
affections. The term is employed in another 
sense, namely, that of distributive and correct- 
ive justice, which regulates the claims of indi- 
viduals in a community, requires restitution or 
compensation for any deviation from such 
claims, or punishes those who have violated 
them. It is in the former sense that justice is 
properly to be considered as a branch of the 
philosophy of the moral feelings ; but the same 
general principles apply to both. 

The sense of Justice, therefore, consists in a 
feeling experienced by every man, of a certain 
line of conduct which he owes to other men in 
given circumstances ; and this seems to be re- 
ferable to the following heads, — attending to 
their interest, — not interfering with their free- 
dom of action, — preserving their reputation, — 
estimating their character and motives, — judg- 
ing of their opinions, — consulting their feelings, 
— and preserving or improving their moral con- 



JUSTICE. 63 

dition. As a guide for his conduct in particu- 
lar instances, a man has usually a distinct im- 
pression of what he thinks due by other men to- 
wards himself; justice requires that he rigidly 
extend to others the same feelings and conduct 
which, in similar circumstances, he expects from 
them. 

(1.) Justice is due to the persons, property, 
and interest of others. This constitutes Inte- 
grity or Honesty. It, of course, implies abs- 
taining from every kind of injury, and preser- 
ving a conscientious regard to their rights. In 
this last respect, it allows us to exercise a pru- 
dent attention to our own interest, provided 
the means be fair and honourable, and that we 
carefully abstain from injuring others by the 
measures we employ for this purpose. The 
great rule for our guidance, in all such cases, 
is found in the immutable principles of moral 
rectitude ; the test of our conduct in regard to 
individual instances is, that it be such as, were 
our own interest concerned, we should think 
fair and honourable in other men. 



64 AFFECTIONS. 

(2.) Justice requires us not to interfere with 
the freedom of action of others. This consti- 
tutes personal liberty ; — but in all civil commu- 
nities the right is liable to certain restrictions ; 
— as when a man uses his freedom of action to 
the danger or injury of other men. The prin- 
ciples of justice may also recognise a man^s sur- 
rendering, to a certain extent, his personal li- 
berty, by mutual and voluntary compact, as in 
the case of servants, apprentices, soldiers, &c. ; 
but they are opposed to slavery, in which the 
individual concerned is not a party to the ar- 
rangement. 

(3.) Justice enjoins a regard to the reputa- 
tion of others. This consists in avoiding every 
thing that could be injurious to their good 
name, either by direct evil-speaking, or such in- 
sinuations as might give rise to suspicion or 
prejudice against them. It must extend also 
to the counteracting of such insinuations, when 
we hear them made by others, especially in cir- 
cumstances in which the individual injured has 
no opportunity of defending himself. It in- 



JUSTICE. 65 

eludes, farther, that we do not deny to others, 
even to rivals, any praise or credit which is 
justly due to them. There is, however, one 
modification, equally consistent with justice, to 
which the former of these rules is liable ; namely, 
that, in certain cases, we may be required to 
make a statement prejudicial to an individual, 
when duty to a third party or to the public 
makes it incumbent on us to do so. In such a 
case, a person guided by the rules of justice will 
go no farther than is actually required by the 
circumstances ; and will at all times beware of 
propagating a report injurious to another, 
though he should know it to be strictly true, 
unless he is called by special duty to commu- 
nicate it. 

(4.) Justice requires us not only to avoid in- 
juring an individual in the estimation of other 
men, but to exercise the same fairness in form- 
ing our own opinion of his character, without 
being misled or biassed by passion or prejudice. 
This consists in estimating his conduct and 
motives with calmness and impartiality ; in re- 



00 AFFECTIONS. 

gard to particular instances, making full allow- 
ance for the circumstances in which he was 
placed, and the feelings by which he was, or 
might be, at the time, naturally influenced. 
When an action admits of being referred to 
different motives, justice consists in taking the 
more favourable view, if we can do so with 
strict regard to truth, instead of harshly and 
hastily assigning a motive which is unworthy. 
Such justice in regard to character and motives 
we require to exercise with peculiar care, when 
the conduct referred to has been in any way 
opposed to our own self-love. In these cases 
we must be especially on our guard against the 
influence of the selfish principle, which might 
lead to partial and distorted views of actions 
and motives, less favourable to others, and more 
favourable to ourselves, than justice warrants. 
When viewed in this manner, we may often 
perceive, that conduct, which gave rise to emo- 
tions of displeasure as injurious to us, was fully 
warranted by some conduct on our own part, 
or was required by some higher duty which the 
individual owed to another. 



JUSTICE. 67 

(5.) Justice is to be exercised in judging of 
the opinions and statements of others. This 
constitutes Candour. It consists in giving a 
fair and deliberate hearing to opinions, state- 
ments, and arguments, and weighing fairly and 
honestly their tendency. It is, therefore, op- 
posed to prejudice, blind attachment to precon- 
ceived opinions, and that narrow disputatious 
spirit which delights in captious criticism, and 
will hear nothing with calmness that is opposed 
to its own views ; which distorts or misrepre- 
sents the sentiments of its opponents, ascribing 
them to unworthy motives, or deducing from 
them conclusions which they do not warrant. 
Candour, accordingly, may be considered as a 
compound of justice and the love of truth. It 
leads us to give due attention to the opinions 
and statements of others, — in all cases to be 
cihefly solicitous to discover truth, and, in 
statements of a mixed character, containing, 
perhaps, much error and fallacy, anxiously to 
discover and separate what is true. It has ac- 
cordingly been remarked, that a turn for acute 
disputation, and minute and rigid criticism, is 



68 AFFECTIONS. 

often the characteristic of a contracted and 
prejudiced mind; and that the most enlarged 
understandings are always the most indulgent 
to the statements of others, — their leading ob- 
ject being to discover truth. 

(6.) Justice is due to the feelings of others ; 
and this applies to many circumstances which 
do not affect either their interest or their repu- 
tation. Without injuring them in any of these 
respects, or in our own good opinion, we may 
behave to them in such a manner as to wound 
their feelings. There are minds of an extreme 
delicacy, which, in this respect, are peculiarly 
sensitive; — towards these a person of correct 
feelings strives to conduct himself with suitable 
tenderness. We may find, however, persons of 
honest and upright minds, who would shrink 
from the least approach to real injury, but yet 
neglect the necessary attention to the feelings ; 
and may even confer a benefit in such a manner 
as to wound the individual to whom they intend- 
ed kindness. The lower degrees of this principle 
pertain to what is called mere good breeding. 



JUSTICE. 69 

which has been defined " benevolence in trifles;"" 
but the higher degrees may restrain from con 
duct which, without any real injury, inflicts 
permanent pain. To this head we may perhaps 
also refer a due regard to the estimate which 
we lead a man to form of himself. This is op- 
posed to flattery on the one hand, and on the 
other to any unnecessary depreciation of his 
character. Flattery indeed is also to be con- 
sidered as a violation of veracity. 

(7.) While, upon the principles which have 
been referred to, we abstain from injuring the in- 
terests, the reputation, or the feelings of others, 
there is another class of injuries, of still higher 
magnitude, which the conscientious mind will 
avoid with peculiar anxiety, namely, injuries 
done to the moral principles of other men. 
These form a class of offences of which no hu- 
man law takes any adequate cognizance ; but 
we know that they possess a character of the 
deepest malignity. Deep guilt attaches to the 
man who, by persuasion or ridicule, has unhinged 
the moral feelings of another, or has been the 



70 AFFECTIONS. 

means of leading him astray from the paths of 
virtue. Of equal, or even greater malignity, is 
the aspect of the writer, whose works have con- 
tributed to violate the principles of truth and 
rectitude, — to pollute the imagination, or cor- 
rupt the heart. Inferior offenders are promptly 
seized by public authority, and suffer the award 
of public justice ; but the destroyer of the moral 
being often walks securely through his own scene 
of moral discipline, as if no power could reach 
the measure of his guilt but the hand of the 
Eternal. 

To the same head we are to assign the 
extensive and important influence of example. 
There are few men who have not in this respect 
some power, but it belongs more particularly to 
persons in situations of rank and public emi- 
nence. It is matter of deep regret, both to the 
friend of virtue and the friend of his country, 
when any of these are found manifesting disre- 
gard to sacred things, or giving an air of fashion 
to what is calculated to corrupt the moral 
principles of the unthinking classes of society. 
If they are restrained by no higher motive, the 



COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 71 

feelings of patriotism, and even of personal 
safety, ought to produce a solemn caution; 
and it becomes them seriously to consider, 
whether they may not thus be sowing among 
the ignorant multitude the seeds of tumult, re- 
volution, and anarchy. 



II. COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 

Great diversity exists in the condition of 
different individuals in the present state, — some 
being in circumstances of ease, wealth, and com- 
fort, — others of pain, deprivation, and sorrow. 
Such diversities we must consider as an arrange- 
ment established by the great Disposer of all 
things, and calculated to promote important 
purposes in his moral government. Many of 
these purposes are entirely beyond the reach of 
our faculties ; but, as holding a prominent place 
among them, we may safely reckon the cultiva- 
tion of our moral feelings, especially the affections 
of compassion and benevolence. The due exer- 
of these is, therefore, calculated to promote 



72 AFFECTIONS. 

a double object, namely, the alleviation of dis- 
tress in others, — and the cultivation in ourselves 
of a mental condition peculiarly adapted to a 
state of moral discipline. By bringing us into 
contact with individuals in various forms and 
degrees of suffering, they tend continually to re- 
mind us, that the present scene is but the infancy 
of our existence, — that the beings whom we thus 
contemplate are the children of the same Al- 
mighty Father with ourselves, inheriting the 
same nature, possessed of the same feelings, and 
soon to enter upon another state of existence, 
when all the distinctions which are to be found 
in this world shall cease for ever. They tend 
thus to withdraw us from the power of self-love, 
and the deluding influence of present things; 
and habitually to raise our views to that future 
life, for which the present is intended to prepare 
us. The due cultivation of the benevolent af- 
fections, therefore, is not properly to be consid- 
ered as the object of moral approbation, but 
rather as a process of moral culture. They 
may enable us in some degree to benefit others, 
but their chief benefit is to ourselves. By ne- 



COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 73 

glecting them, we both incur much guilt, and 
deprive ourselves of an important mean of im- 
provement. The diligent exercise of them, 
besides being a source of moral advantage, is 
accompanied with a degree of mental enjoyment 
which carries with it its own reward. Such ap- 
pears to be the correct view which we ought to 
take of the arrangement established by the 
Creator in this part of our constitution. It is 
calculated to correct a misconception of an im- 
portant kind, which considers the exercise of 
the benevolent affections as possessing a char- 
acter of merit. To this subject we shall have 
occasion to refer more particularly in the sequel. 
The exercise of the benevolent affections may 
be briefly treated of, under nearly the same 
heads as those referred to when considering the 
principle of Justice ; — keeping in mind that 
they lead to greater exertion for the benefit of 
others, and thus often demand a greater sacrifice 
of self-love than is included under the mere re- 
quirements of justice. On the other hand, bene- 
volence is not to be exercised at the expense of 
Justice; as would be the case, if a man were found 



74 AFFECTIONS. 

relieving distress by such expedients as involve 
the necessity of withholding the payment of just 
debts, or imply the neglect or infringement of 
some duty which he owes to another. 

(1.) Compassion and benevolent exertion are 
due towards alleviating the distresses of others. 
This exercise of them, in many instances, calls 
for a decided sacrifice of personal interest, and, 
in others, for considerable personal exertion. 
We feel our way to the proper measure of these 
sacrifices, by the high principle of moral duty, 
along with that mental exercise which places us 
in the situation of others, and, by a kind of re- 
flected self-love, judges of the conduct due by 
us to them in our respective circumstances. — 
The details of this subject would lead us into a 
field too extensive for our present purpose. Pe- 
cuniary aid, by those who have the means, is the 
most easy form in which benevolence can be 
gratified, and that which often requires the least, 
if any, sacrifice of personal comfort or self-love. 
The same affection may be exercised in a degree 
much higher in itself, and often much more use- 



COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 



ful to others, by personal exertion and personal 
kindness. The former, compared with the 
means of the individual, may present a mere 
mockery of mercy ; while the latter, even in the 
lowest walks of life, often exhibit the brightest 
displays of active usefulness that can adorn the 
human character. This high and pure benevo- 
lence not only is dispensed with willingness, when 
occasions present themselves ; but seeks out 
opportunities for itself, and feels in want of its 
natural and healthy exercise when deprived of 
an object on which it may be bestowed. 

(2.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards 
the reputation of others. This consists not 
only in avoiding any injury to their characters, 
but in exertions to protect them against the 
injustice of others, — to correct misrepresenta- 
tions, — to check the course of slander, and to 
obviate the efforts of those who would poison 
the confidence of friends, or disturb the har- 
mony of society. 

(3.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards 



76 AFFECTIONS. 

the character and conduct of others ; especially 
when these have been in opposition to our per- 
sonal interest or self-love. This consists in 
viewing their conduct with indulgence and for- 
bearance, assigning the most favourable motives, 
— and making every allowance for their feelings, 
and the circumstances in which they were placed. 
It leads us also to avoid all suspicions and jea- 
lousies which are not clearly justified by fact ; 
and to abstain to the utmost from taking offence, 
— by putting upon the conduct of others the 
best construction of which it will possibly admit. 
It extends still farther to the actual forgiveness 
of injuries, and the repaying of evil with good, 
— a conduct represented in the sacred writings 
as one of the highest attainments the human 
character can reach, in so far as regards its re- 
lation to other men. 

(4.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards 
the feelings of others ; and this applies to many 
situations in which neither their interest nor 
their character is concerned. It includes those 
exercises of the kindly affections which produce 



COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 77 

so powerful an influence in all the relations of 
life, but which it is impossible for any descrip- 
tion to delineate. It comprehends all our social 
and civil connexions, but seems peculiarly to 
belong to our intercourse with inferiors and de- 
pendents. Its most anxious exercise may often 
relate merely to trifles, but it extends to innu- 
merable circumstances in which we may surren- 
der our own feelings to those of others, and our 
own convenience or gratification to theirs. It 
implies solicitude to avoid wounding the feelings 
by pride, selfishness, or fretfulness, — by suspi- 
cions, imputations, and jealousies, — or by allow- 
ing insignificant things to ruffle the temper and 
derange the social comfort. Many, who are not 
deficient in what we usually call deeds of bene- 
volence, are too apt to forget, that a most im- 
portant exercise of true benevolence consists in 
the habitual cultivation of courtesy, gentleness, 
and kindness ; and that on these dispositions 
often depends our influence upon the comfort 
and happiness of others, in a greater degree 
than on any deeds of actual beneficence. — To 
this department, also, we may refer the high 



78 AFFECTIONS. 

character of the peace-maker, whose delight it 
is to allay angry feelings, even when he is in no 
degree personally interested, and to bring toge- 
ther as friends and brethren, those who have 
assumed the attitude of hatred and revenge. 

(5.) Benevolence is to be exercised in regard 
to the moral degradation of others, including 
their ignorance and vice. This prevents us 
from deriving satisfaction from moral evil, even 
though it should contribute to our advantage, 
as might often happen from the misconduct of 
rivals or enemies. It implies also that highest 
species of usefulness which aims at raising the 
moral condition of man, — by instructing the ig- 
norant, rescuing the unwary, and reclaiming the 
vicious. This exalted benevolence will therefore 
also seek to extend th^ light of divine truth to 
nations that sit in moral darkness ; and looks 
anxiously for the period when the knowledge of 
Christianity shall dispel every false faith, and 
put an end to the horrors of superstition. 



VERACITY. 79 



III. VERACITY. 



In our mental impressions relating to vera- 
city, we have a striking illustration of the man- 
ner in which we rely on this class of moral feel- 
ings, as instinctive in the constitution of the 
mind. On a certain confidence in the veracity 
of mankind is founded so much of the knowledge 
on which we constantly depend, that, without 
it, the whole system of human things would go 
into confusion. It relates to all the intelligence 
which we derive from any other source than 
our own personal observation: — for example, 
to all that we receive through the historian, the 
traveller, the naturalist, or the astronomer. 
Even in regard to the most common events of 
a single day, we often proceed on a confidence 
in the veracity of a great variety of individuals. 
There is, indeed, a natural tendency to truth in 
all men, unless where this principle is overcome 
by some strong selfish purpose to be answered 
by departing from it : — and there is an equally 
strong tendency to rely on the veracity of others, 



80 AFFECTIONS. 

until we have learnt certain cautions by our ac- 
tual experience of mankind. Hence children and 
inexperienced persons are easily imposed upon by 
unfounded statements : — and the most practised 
liar confides in the credulity of those whom he 
attempts to deceive. Deception, indeed, would 
never accomplish its purpose, if it were not from 
the impression that men generally speak truth. 
It is obvious also, that the mutual confidence 
which men have in each other, both in regard 
to veracity of statement, and to sincerity of in- 
tention respecting engagements, is that which 
keeps together the whole of civil society. In 
the transactions of commerce it is indispensable, 
and without it all the relations of civil life would 
go into disorder. When treating of the intel- 
lectual powers in another work, I considered 
the principles which regulate our confidence in 
human testimony ; and it is unnecessary to re- 
cur to them in this place. Our present object 
is briefly to analyze the elements which are es- 
sential to veracity, when we view it as a moral 
emotion, or a branch of individual character. 
These appear to be three, — correctness in as- 



VERACITY. 81 

certaining facts, — accuracy in relating them, — 
and truth of purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment 
of promises. 

(1.) An important element of -veracity is cor- 
rectness in ascertaining facts. This is essential 
to the Love of Truth. It requires us to exercise 
the most anxious care respecting every state- 
ment which we receive as true ; and not to re- 
ceive it as such, until we are satisfied that the 
authority on which it is asserted is of a nature 
on which we can fully rely, and that the state- 
ment contains all the facts to which our atten- 
tion ought to be directed. It consequently 
guards us against those limited views, by which 
party spirit or a love of favourite dogmas leads 
a man to receive the facts which favour a par- 
ticular opinion, and neglect those which are op- 
posed to it. The sound exercise of judgment, 
which is connected with this love of truth, differs 
therefore from the art of ingenious disputation, 
and is often found directly at variance with it. 
The same principle is applicable to the truths 
which are derived as deductions from processes 



82 AFFECTIONS. 

of reasoning. It is thus opposed to all sophis- 
tical arguments, and partial or distorted reason- 
ings, by which disputants strive to establish 
particular systems, instead of engaging in an 
honest and simple inquiry after truth. The 
love of truth, therefore, is of equal importance 
in the reception of facts, and in the formation 
of opinions ; and it includes also a readiness to 
relinquish our own opinions, when new facts or 
arguments are presented to us which are calcu- 
lated to overturn them. The practice of this 
sincere and candid search after truth, on every 
subject to which the mind may be directed, 
ought to be cultivated in early life with the 
most assiduous care. It is a habit of the mind 
which must exercise a most important influence 
in the culture both of moral and intellectual 
character. 

In the reception of truth, especially on the 
evidence of testimony, we acquire by experience 
a degree of caution, arising from having been 
sometimes deceived. In minds of a certain de- 
scription, this may be allowed to produce a sus- 
picion with regard to all evidence, — in other 






VERACITY. 83 

words, Scepticism. The want of the necessary 
and proper caution, again, leads to Credulity. 
It is the part of a well-regulated mind to avoid 
both these extremes, by attentively weighing 
the evidence and the character of the witnesses, 
and giving to each circumstance its due influence 
in the conclusion. 

(2.) Closely connected with the love of truth 
in receiving, is the exercise of veracity in the 
statement of facts, whether derived from our 
personal observation, or received by testimony 
from others. It consists not only in the most 
scrupulous accuracy of relation, but also in giv- 
ing it in such a manner as to convey a correct 
impression to the hearer. It is consequently 
opposed to all those methods by which either a 
false statement may be made to assume the ap- 
pearance of truth, or one essentially true may 
be so related as to convey a false impression. 

Direct fallacy may consist in the alleged facts 
being absolutely false, or in some of them being 
so, — in facts being wanting or kept out of view 
which would give a different import to the whole 



84 



AFFECTIONS. 



statement, — or in some of the facts being dis- 
guised, distorted, or coloured, so as to alter 
materially the impression conveyed by them. 
But, besides such actual fallacy, there are va- 
rious methods by which a statement literally 
true may be so related as to convey an erroneous 
impression. Facts may be connected together 
in such a manner as to give the appearance of 
a relation of cause and effect, when they are in 
truth entirely unconnected ; — or an event may 
be represented as common which has occurred 
only in one or two instances. The character 
of an individual may be assumed from a single 
act, which, if the truth were known, might be 
seen to be opposed to his real disposition, and 
accounted for by the circumstances in which he 
happened at the time to be placed. Events 
may be connected together which were entirely 
disjoined, and conclusions deduced from this fic- 
titious connexion, which are of course unfound- 
ed. Several of these sources of fallacy may be 
illustrated by a ludicrous example. — A traveller 
from the continent has represented the venality 
of the British House of Commons to be such, 



VERACITY. 85 

that, whenever the minister of the Crown enters 
the house, there is a general cry for " places," 
It may be true that a cry of " places" has gone 
round the house at certain times, when business 
was about to commence, or to be resumed after 
an interval, — meaning, of course, that members 
were to take their seats. It* is very probable, 
that, on some occasion, this may have occurred 
at the moment when the minister entered, — so 
that the statement of the traveller, might, in 
point of fact, be strictly true. • The erroneous 
impression which he endeavours to convey by 
it, arises from three sources of fallacy, which 
the anecdote will serve to illustrate, namely, — 
the false meaning he gives to the word employed 
— connecting it with the entrance of the minis- 
ter as cause and effect, — and representing the 
connexion as uniform which happened to occur 
in that particular instance. In the same man- 
ner it will appear, that a false impression may 
be conveyed respecting the conduct of an indi- 
vidual, — by assigning motives which are entirely 
imaginary, — by connecting things together which 
have no relation, — by keeping out of view cir- 



86 AFFECTIONS. 

cumstances which would afford an explanation 
or palliation of his conduct, — or by attaching 
to his words a different meaning from that which 
he intended to convey by them. The common 
saying, that there are two ways of telling a 
story, does not therefore refer to what is strictly 
to be called fabrication or falsehood; but to 
those distortions or colourings of circumstances, 
which, however slight in themselves, have the 
effect of essentially changing the impression 
made by the whole. 

To veracity, under this department, we are 
also to refer the rule, — of giving to others an 
honest and fair impression of our views, motives, 
and intentions. This is Sincerity. It is op- 
posed to hypocrisy, that unworthy display of 
human character, in which a man disguises his 
real sentiments, and, on the contrary, professes 
principles which he neither feels nor values, 
merely for the purpose of promoting his selfish 
interests. Such a character exhibits a singular 
combination of moral delinquencies. It is 
founded on the lowest selfishness, and includes 
a departure from veracity and honesty. But 









VERACITY. 87 

besides, it implies a knowledge of virtuous prin- 
ciples, and of their proper tendencies, while 
there is a practical denial of their influence. 
Sincerity is also opposed to flattery, which 
tends to give a man a false impression of our 
opinion, and of our feelings towards him, and 
likewise leads him to form a false estimate of 
his own character. It is opposed also to simu- 
lation or double-dealing, by which a man, for 
certain purposes, professes sentiments towards 
another which he does not feel, or intentions 
which he does not entertain. 

(3.) The third element of veracity is Truth 
of Purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of pro- 
mises. This is opposed to actual departure 
from what was distinctly promised ; likewise to 
all those evasions by which one may convey an 
impression, or excite the hope of an intention 
which he does not mean to fulfil, — or avoid the 
performance of a real or implied engagement 
on any other ground than inability to perform 
it. By this straight- forward integrity of pur- 
pose, an individual gives a clear impression of 



88 AFFECTIONS. 

what he honestly intends to perform ; and per- 
forms it, though circumstances may have oc- 
curred to make the fulfilment disagreeable or 
even injurious to himself : — " he sweareth to 
his own hurt," says a sacred writer, "and 
changeth not." 



IV. FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND GRATITUDE. 

These affections are so nearly allied, that, in 
this slight analysis, they may be taken together. 
They consist in a personal and peculiar attach- 
ment to an individual, founded either upon 
some qualities in himself, or some benefits he 
has conferred on us, or on some one in whom 
we are interested. The feelings and conduct to 
which they give rise correspond with those 
referred to under the preceding affections, with 
this difference, that, in many instances, they 
lead to a much greater sacrifice of personal 
interest and comfort, than usually proceeds 
either from justice or simple benevolence. The 
exertions arising out of them are directed, 



FRIENDSHIP PATRIOTISM. 89 

according to the division formerly given, to 
promoting the interest or comfort of the object 
of our regard, — preserving, defending, or advan- 
cing his reputation, — treating his feelings with 
peculiar tenderness, and his failings with pecu- 
liar indulgence, — receiving his opinions with 
peculiar favour, and anxiously endeavouring to 
improve his intellectual and moral condition. 
This last consideration is justly reckoned the 
highest office of friendship ; — it is to be regret- 
ted that its operation is sometimes impeded by 
another feeling, which leads us to be blind to 
the failings and deficiencies of those whom we 
love. — In exercising simple love and friendship, 
we rejoice in the advantage and happiness of 
the object, though they should be accomplished 
by others, — but, in exercising gratitude, we are 
not satisfied unless they be effected in some 
measure by ourselves. 

v. PATRIOTISM. 

Patriotism is, perhaps, not properly to be 
considered as a distinct principle of our nature; 



90 AFFECTIONS. 

but rather as a result of a combination of the 
other affections. It leads us, by every means 
in our power, to promote the peace and the 
prosperity of our country, — and to discourage, 
to the utmost of our ability, whatever tends to 
the contrary. Every member of the community 
has something in his power in this respect. 
He may set an example, in his own person, of 
dutiful and loyal respect to the first authority, 
of strict obedience to the laws, and respectful 
submission to the institutions of his country. 
He may oppose the attempts of factious indivi- 
duals to sow among the ignorant the seeds of 
discontent, tumult, or discord. He may oppose 
and repress attempts to injure the revenue of 
the state ; may aid in the preservation of public 
tranquillity, and in the execution of public jus- 
tice. Finally, he may zealously exert himself 
in increasing the knowledge and improving the 
moral habits of the people, — two of the most 
important means by which the conscientious 
man, in any rank of life, may aid in conferring 
a high and permanent benefit on his country. 



DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. 91 



VI. THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. 

In this extensive and interesting class are in- 
cluded, conjugal affection, — the parental feel- 
ings, — filial reverence, — and the ties of brothers 
and sisters. — These call forth in a still higher 
degree, the feelings and exertions here referred 
to, and a still greater sacrifice of personal ease, 
advantage, and comfort, in the anxious and di- 
ligent discharge of the duties resulting from 
them. In the conjugal relation, they lead us to 
the tenderness, the confidence, the mutual for- 
bearance, the united exertions of those, who 
have one hope, one interest, and one course of 
duty. The parental relation implies the high- 
est possible degree of that feeling which studies 
the advantage of the object of our care, — the 
promotion of his happiness, — the improvement 
of his mind, — the culture of his affections, — the 
formation of his habits ; the anxious watching 
over the development of his character, both as 
an intellectual and a moral being. The filial 
relation requires in an equal degree, respect, af- 



92 AFFECTIONS. 

fection, submission, and confidence, a deference to 
parental opinion and control ; and an impres- 
sion that those parts of parental management, 
which may often be disagreeable, are guided by 
a sincere desire to promote the highest interests 
of the object of this affectionate regard. 

Among the feelings of our nature " which 
have less of earth in them than heaven," are 
those which bind together the domestic circle 
in the various sympathies, affections, and duties, 
which belong to this class of tender relations. 
It is beautiful also to observe, how these af- 
fections arise out of each other, and how the 
right exercise of them tends to their mutual 
cultivation. — The father ought to consider the 
son as, of all earthly concerns, the highest ob- 
ject of his anxious care ; — and should watch 
over the development of his intellectual char- 
acter, and the culture of his moral feelings. In 
the zealous prosecution of this great purpose, 
he should study to convey a clear impression, 
that he is influenced purely by a feeling of so- 
lemn responsibility, and an anxious desire to 
promote the highest interests. When parental 






DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. 93 

watchfulness is thus mingled with confidence 
and kindness, the son will naturally learn to es- 
timate alike the conduct itself, and the princi- 
ples from which it sprung, and will look to the 
faithful parent as his safest guide and counsel- 
lor, and most valued earthly friend. If we ex- 
tend the same principles to the relation between 
the mother and the daughter, they apply with 
equal or even greater force. In the arrange- 
ments of society, they are thrown more con- 
stantly into each other's company ; and that 
watchful superintendence may be still more ha- 
bitually exercised, which, along with the great 
concern of cultivating the intellectual and mo- 
ral being, neglects not those graces and delica- 
cies which belong peculiarly to the female cha- 
racter. It is not by direct instruction alone, 
that, in such a domestic circle, the highest prin- 
ciples and best feelings of our nature are culti- 
vated in the minds of the young. It is by the 
actual exhibition of the principles themselves, 
and a uniform recognition of their supreme im- 
portance; — it is by a parental conduct, steadily 
manifesting the conviction, that, with every pro- 



94 AFFECTIONS. 

per attention to the acquirements, the accom- 
plishments, and the comforts of life, the chief 
concern of moral beings relates to the life which 
is to come. A domestic society, bound together 
by these principles, can retire, as it were, from 
the haunts of men, and retreat within a sanc- 
tuary where the storms of the world cannot en- 
ter. — When thus met together in the inter- 
change of mutual affection and mutual confi- 
dence, they present the anticipation of that pe- 
riod, when, after the tumults of life are over, 
they shall meet again, " no wanderer lost, a fa- 
mily in heaven." 



THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. 

The feelings of jealousy, anger, and resent- 
ment, are, not less than the other affections, to 
be considered as part of our moral constitu- 
tion ; and they are calculated to answer impor- 
tant purposes, provided they are kept under the 
strict control of reason and the moral princi- 
ple. Their proper object is primarily a sense 



THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. 95 

of blameable conduct in others; and they lead 
us to use proper measures for protecting our- 
selves against such conduct. While we thus dis- 
approve of the character and conduct of men in 
certain circumstances, we are led, by our feel- 
ings of justice and benevolence, to take part 
with the injured and oppressed against the op- 
pressors, — or to protect those who are threaten- 
ed with injuries, by measures for defeating the 
schemes of their enemies. A still more refined 
exercise of this class of feelings leads us to seek 
the reformation of the offender, and to convert 
him from an enemy into a friend. 

Resentment, in cases which concern the public 
peace, naturally leads to the infliction of pun- 
ishment; the object of which is to prevent 
similar conduct in others, not to gratify person- 
al vengeance. Hence it is required to be done 
in a public manner, — with proper deliberation 
and coolness, — and with an exact adaptation of 
the penalty to the offence, and to the object to 
be attained. The person injured is not likely 
to do this with the requisite impartiality and 
candour; for we are apt to feel too deeply injuries 



96 



AFFECTIONS. 



offered to ourselves, and not to make the proper 
allowance for the feelings of others, and the cir- 
cumstances which led to the offence. The higher 
degrees, indeed, of these tendencies usually go 
together, — they, who are most susceptible of 
offences, and most irritable under them, being 
generally least inclined to make allowances for 
others. Hence, in all cases, our disapprobation 
of personal vengeance, or of a man taking the law 
into his hands ; and our perfect sympathy with 
the protectors of the public peace, when they 
dispassionately investigate a case of injury, and 
calmly adapt their measures to the real object 
to be attained by them, — the protection of the 
community. 

The defensive affections are exercised in an un- 
warranted manner, when they are allowed to be 
excited by trifling causes ; when they are, in 
degree, disproportioned to the offence, or pro- 
longed in a manner which it did not require ; 
and when they lead, in any measure, to retalia- 
tion or revenge. The sound exercise of them, 
therefore, is opposed to that irascibility which 
takes fire on trivial occasions, or without due 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 97 

consideration of the intentions of the agent, or 
the circumstances in which he was placed, — to 
a disposition to resentment on occasions which 
do not warrant it, — and, on all occasions, to 
harbouring the feeling after the offence and all 
its consequences have passed over. 



Before concluding the subject of the affections, 
there are three points respecting them which re- 
main to be mentioned as briefly as possible, — 
the influence of Attention, combined with a 
certain act of Imagination, — the influence of 
Habit, — and the estimate of the feeling of 
Moral Approbation which the exercise of the 
affections is calculated to produce. 

I. In every exercise of the affections, a most 
important influence is produced by Attention, 
aided by a certain act of imagination. This 
consists in directing themind intensely and hab- 
itually to all the considerations which ought to 



98 AFFECTIONS. 

guide us in the particular relation to which the 
affection refers. It leads us to place ourselves 
in the situation of others, and, with a kind of 
personal or almost selfish interest, to enter into 
their wants, their anxieties, and their feelings ; 
and thus, in their place, to judge of the emo- 
tions and the conduct which are due from us to 
them. Such is the exercise of one who wishes 
to follow the great rule of doing to others as he 
would that they should do to him. He is not 
satisfied with the merely decent discharge of the 
duties which arise from the affections, but 
studies intensely the requirements which attach 
to his particular situation, — searches out the in- 
dividuals towards whom they ought to be exer- 
cised, and enters into their condition and their 
feelings with minute and tender interest. Many 
who shew no want of friendly and benevolent 
affection, when an individual case is strongly 
brought before them, are deficient in the kind 
of exercise which would lead them, in this man- 
ner, to find their way to that correct exercise of 
the affections which really belongs to a scene of 
moral discipline. Such an exercise is adapted 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 99 

to every situation in life, and tends to guard a 
man, in his various relations, against the hind- 
rances which indolence, self-love, and pure inat- 
tention are apt to bring in the way of his pe- 
culiar duties, — and of his discharging them with 
due regard to the feelings of others. 

This mental exercise, of extensive application 
to the benevolent affections, constitutes what is 
usually called Sympathy, It is composed of an 
act of Imagination and Self-love, by which we 
transfer ourselves, as it were, into the situation 
of other men, and thereby regulate our conduct 
towards them. It is however to be kept in 
mind, that the principle of self-love, thus brought 
into action, is the test, not the rule of our con- 
duct. This is a point on which there has been 
much vague and useless speculation ; and from 
not attending to this distinction, some have re- 
ferred our ideas of benevolence entirely to the 
principle of selfishness. Such discussions are 
equally unsound and unprofitable, and are to be 
placed on a footing with the speculations of the 
scholastic philosophy, which we now look back 
upon merely as matters of historical curiosity. 



100 AFFECTIONS. 

The application of self-love, in the manner which 
has been referred to, is chiefly useful in enabling 
us fully to appreciate the facts of the individual 
case, as we would do if we were personally inter- 
ested. The rule of our conduct is quite distinct 
from this, and rests on those fundamental prin- 
ciples of justice and compassion which form a 
part of our moral constitution. In the practical 
application of them, they are very much aided 
by the moral principle or conscience. 

The man who acts habitually under the in- 
fluence of these rules, learns to question himself 
rigidly respecting the claims and duties which 
result from his moral relations ; and the feelings 
and circumstances of those with whom they 
bring him into contact. What (he asks him- 
self) is the line of action which belongs to me in 
regard to that individual, — what are his feelings 
in his present situation, — what are the feelings 
and conduct which he expects from me, — and 
what are those which I would expect from him 
were I in his circumstances and he in mine. It 
is not a due regulation of the affections alone 
that arises from this wholesome state of mental 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 101 

discipline. It is a moral culture to the mind 
itself, which may often be fraught with the most 
important results. For the man who exercises 
it realizes to himself the feelings of poverty, — 
the agonies of bereavement, the impressions of 
the bed of death ; — and thus, without the pain 
of suffering, he may reap a portion of those im- 
portant moral benefits which suffering is calcu- 
lated to yield. 

There is another view still to be taken of the 
advantages derived from that mental discipline 
which consists in attention to all the relations in- 
cluded under the affections. When habitually 
exercised, it may often bring before the mind 
important circumstances in our moral relations, 
which are apt to make an inadequate impression 
amid the distractions of present things. When 
the parent, for example, looks around the ob- 
jects of his tender affection, what a new impulse 
is communicated by the thought, that the pre- 
sent life is but the infancy of their being ; and 
that his chief and highest concern is to train 
them for immortality. A similar impulse must 
be given to the philanthropist, when he consi- 



102 AFFECTIONS. 

ders that the individuals who share his benevo- 
lent attentions, are, like himself, passing through 
a scene of discipline, to a higher state of exist- 
ence, where they will assume a place correspond- 
ing to their rank in the scale of moral beings. 
The refined philanthropy thus arising, while it 
neglects no proper attention to the distresses 
of the present life, will seek chiefly to contend 
with those greater evils which degrade the moral 
nature, and sever the immortal spirit from its 
God. He who judges upon this extended prin- 
ciple, will learn to form a new estimate of the 
condition of man. Amid the pride of wealth 
and the splendour of power, he may mourn over 
a being lost to every feeling of his high destiny ; 
and, by the death-bed of the peasant, amid dis- 
comfort and suffering, he may contemplate with 
interest a purified spirit rising to immortality. 

II. Next to the power of attention, we have 
to notice the influence produced upon the affec- 
tions by Habit. This is founded upon a princi- 
ple of our nature, by which a remarkable rela- 
tion exists between the affections and the actions 



INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 103 

which arise out of them. The tendency of all 
emotions is to become weaker by repetition, or 
to be less acutely felt the oftener they are ex- 
perienced. The tendency of actions, again, as 
we have seen when treating of the Intellectual 
Powers, is to become easier by repetition, — so 
that those, which at first require close and con- 
tinued attention, come to be performed without 
effort and almost without consciousness. Now 
an affection properly consists of an emotion 
leading to an action ; and the natural progress 
of the mind, in the proper exercise of the affec- 
tion, is, that the emotion becomes less acutely 
felt, as the action becomes easier and more fa- 
miliar. — Thus, a scene of wretchedness, or a tale 
of sorrow, will produce in the inexperienced an 
intensity of emotion not felt by him whose life has 
been devoted to deeds of mercy ; and a superficial 
observer is apt to consider the condition of the 
latter as one of insensibility, produced by fami- 
liarity with scenes of distress. It is, on the con- 
trary, that healthy and natural progress of the 
mind, in which the emotion is gradually dimi- 
nished in force as it is followed by its proper ac- 



104 AFFECTIONS. 

tions,- — that is, as the mere intensity of feeling 
is exchanged for the habit of active benevolence. 
But that this may take place in the sound and 
healthy manner, the emotion must be steadily 
followed by the action which belongs to it. If 
this be neglected, the harmony of the moral 
process is destroyed, and, as the emotion be- 
comes weakened, it is succeeded by cold insensibi- 
lity or barren selfishness. 

This is a subject of much importance, — and 
there are two conclusions which arise out of it 
respecting the cultivation of the benevolent af- 
fections. The one relates to the bad effects of 
fictitious scenes of sorrow, as represented on the 
stage, or in works of fancy. The evil arising 
from these appears to be that which has now 
been referred to ; — the emotion is produced 
without the corresponding action, and the con- 
sequence is likely to be a cold and useless sen- 
timentalism, instead of a sound cultivation of 
the benevolent affections. — -The second is, — that, 
in cultivating the benevolent affections in the 
young, we should be careful to observe the pro- 
cess so clearly pointed out by the philosophy of 



INFLUENCE OP HABIT. 105 

the moral feelings. They should be familiarized 
with actual scenes of suffering, but this ought 
to be accompanied by deeds of minute and ac- 
tive kindness, so as to produce a full and lively 
impression of the wants and feelings of the suf- 
ferer. On this ground, also, I think we should 
at first even abstain, in a great measure, from 
giving young persons the cautions they will af- 
terwards find so requisite, respecting the charac- 
ters of the objects of their benevolence, and the 
impositions so frequently practised by the poor. 
Suspicions of this kind might tend to interfere 
with the important moral process which ought 
to be our first object, — the necessary cautions 
will afterwards be learned with little difficulty. 

The best mode of contending with the evils of 
pauperism, on the principles of political econo- 
my, is a problem on which I presume not to 
enter. But, on the principles of moral science, 
a consideration of the utmost importance should 
never be forgotten, — the great end to be an- 
swered by the varieties of human condition in 
the cultivation of the benevolent affections. 
Political science passes its proper boundary 



106 



AFFECTIONS. 



when it is permitted in any degree to interfere 
with this high principle;— and, on the other 
hand, it is not to be denied, that this important 
purpose is in a great measure frustrated by 
many of those institutions, which cut off the 
direct intercourse of the prosperous and the 
wealthy with those whom providence has com- 
mitted to them, in this scene of moral discipline, 
as the objects of their benevolent care. 

HI. The third point, which remains to be 
briefly mentioned, is the feeling of moral appro- 
bation, or rather the impression of merit, which 
is frequently attached to the exercise of the af- 
fections. This important subject has been al- 
ready referred to. When the mother, with 
total disregard to her own health and comfort, 
devotes herself to watching over her child, she 
is not influenced by any sense of duty, nor do 
we attach to her conduct the feeling of moral 
approbation. She acts simply upon an impulse 
within, which she perceives to be a part of her 
constitution, and which carries her forward with 
unshrinking firmness in a particular course of 



MORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. 107 

laborious and anxious service. She may, in- 
deed, be sensible that the violation of these 
feelings would expose her to the reprobation of 
her kind; but she does not imagine that the 
zealous fulfilment of them entitles her to any 
special praise. The same principle applies to 
all the affections. They are a part of our mo- 
ral constitution, intended to bind men together 
by certain offices of justice, friendship, and com- 
passion; and have been well named by a dis- 
tinguished writer, " the voice of God within 
us." They serve a purpose in our moral econo- 
my, analogous to that which the appetites an- 
swer in our physical system. The appetite of 
hunger, for example, ensures a regular supply 
of nourishment, in a manner which could never 
have been provided for by any process of rea- 
soning; though an exercise of reason is still ap- 
plicable to preserving over it a certain regula- 
tion and control. In the same manner, the 
various feelings of our moral nature have each 
a defined purpose to answer, both in respect to 
our mental economy and our relations to our 
fellow-men; and in the due exercise of them 



108 AFFECTIONS. 

they ought to be controlled and regulated by 
the moral principle. The violation of these 
feelings, therefore, places a man below the level 
of a moral being; but the performance of them 
does not entitle him to assume the claim of 
merit. He is merely bearing his part in a cer- 
tain arrangement, from which he is himself to 
derive benefit, as a being holding a place in that 
system of things which these feelings are intend- 
ed to keep together in harmony and order. In 
regard to the great principles of veracity and 
justice, every one perceives this to be true. Ii\ 
all mercantile transactions, for example, a cha- 
racter for high honour and integrity leads not 
only to respect, but to that confidence which is 
closely connected with prosperity. — These qua- 
lities, indeed, are as essential to a man's own in- 
terest as they are to his duty to other men; 
and if he does gain an advantage by fraud and 
deceit* it is only when he escapes detection;' — 
that is, while he preserves the reputation of the 
very qualities which he has violated. But this 
truth applies equally to the affections more 
strictly benevolent. The man who lives in the 



MORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. 109 

habitual exercise of a cold and barren selfish- 
ness, and seeks only his own gratification or in- 
terest, has indeed, in some sense, his punish- 
ment in the contempt and aversion with which 
he is viewed by his fellow-men. Much more 
than this, however, attaches to such a charac- 
ter; — he has violated the principles given him 
for his guidance in the social system;— he has 
fallen from his sound condition as a moral being; 
and incurs actual guilt in the eye of a righteous 
Governor, whose will the order of this lower 
world is intended to obey. But it by no means 
follows, that the man, who performs in a certain 
manner the relations of justice, friendship, and 
compassion, is thereby entitled to claim merit 
in the view of the Almighty Governor of the 
universe. He merely acts his part in the pre- 
sent system of moral economy, for which he has 
been adapted. He is so constituted as to de- 
rive satisfaction from the exercise of these af- 
fections ; and, on the other hand, he receives an 
appropriate reward in the reciprocal exercise of 
similar affections by other men, and in the ge- 
neral harmony of society which results from 



110 AFFECTIONS. 

them. An extensive culture of the affections, 
therefore, may go on without the recognition of 
the moral principle, or that state of mind which 
habitually feels the presence of the Deity, and 
desires to have the whole character in subjec- 
tion to his will. We are not entitled to ac- 
knowledge the operation of that great principle, 
unless when the affections are exercised in cir- 
cumstances which imply a strong and decided 
sacrifice of self-love to the authority of God. 
This appears to correspond with the distinction 
so strikingly stated in the sacred writings — " If 
ye love them which love you, what reward have 
ye : do not even the publicans the same." — " I 
say unto you, love your enemies, — bless them 
that curse you, do good to them that hate you, 
pray for them which despitefully use you and 
persecute you." 

On this branch of the subject it is also to be 
observed, that there is a kind of compensating 
power among the affections themselves, by which, 
in the intercourse of men, they act as checks 
upon each other. Thus resentment acts as a 
check upon injustice; and the dread of exciting 



MORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. Ill 

anger in others has probably an influence in 
preserving the peace and harmonies of society, 
which we often ascribe to a higher principle. 
In regard to the affections more strictly bene- 
volent, these are also influenced, in a similar 
manner, by the feeling of disapprobation which 
attends any remarkable departure from their 
requirements. When we keep in mind, along 
with this consideration, the manner in which all 
men are influenced, in one degree or another, by 
the love of approbation or regard to character, 
we perceive in the moral system a beautiful prin- 
ciple of compensation, tending to promote in it 
a certain degree of harmony. This is remark- 
ably illustrated, for example, in the general feel- 
ing of disapprobation which is attached to in- 
gratitude, and to violation of filial affection or 
parental duty, and even to any marked neglect 
of the common calls of humanity. Along with 
this we are also to keep in mind, that a man is 
universally considered as in the lowest state of 
human nature, who, in these respects, has be- 
come regardless of character, — that is, of the 



112 AFFECTIONS. 

estimation with which his conduct is viewed by 
his fellow-men. 

In regard to both the affections and the de- 
sires, we are farther to remember the deep and 
extensive influence upon the happiness of the 
individual himself, which results from a due re- 
gulation of these feelings ; — the pure mental 
enjoyment of him whose affections are under 
sound regulation, and whose desires are habi- 
tually directed to those objects which are in the 
highest degree worthy of being sought after. 
This mental tranquillity is also represented to 
us, in a very striking manner, by the influence 
of those dispositions which we usually refer to 
the head of Temper. What a constant source 
of pure enjoyment is a meek and placid spirit, 
the desires of which are moderate and under 
due regulation, — which puts upon every thing 
the best construction it will admit of, — is slow 
to take offence, — seeks no distinction, — but 
views itself with humility, and others with can- 
dour, benevolence, and indulgence. Such a dis- 
position makes the man happy in himself, and 
a source of happiness and peace to all around 



MORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. 113 

him. On the other hand, what an unceasing 
source of mental disquiet and turbulence is the 
opposite disposition, — jealous, envious, and cen- 
sorious, — ready to take offence at trifles, and 
often to construe incidental occurrences into 
intended and premeditated insults, — prone to 
put unfavourable constructions upon the con- 
duct of others, and thus continually to surround 
itself with imaginary enemies, and imaginary 
neglects and injuries. Such a temper is a con- 
tinual torment to the individual himself, and the 
cause of disputes and jealousies among those 
with whom he is connected. We cannot fail, also, 
to perceive that the man of ill-regulated pas- 
sions injures his own true interest and hap- 
piness, as much as he violates his duty to 
others ; and that his course of life is often pro- 
ductive of degradation, disease, and wretched- 
ness. In all this we see a beautiful example of 
the wise arrangements of the Creator, who, in 
the structure of our moral nature, has connect- 
ed our own peace and happiness with a state of 
feeling calculated to promote the happiness and 
peace of all around us. We cannot be at a loss 



114 AFFECTIONS. 

to conclude what a different scene the world 
would present, if such feelings were universally 
cultivated; and, on the other hand, we must 
observe how much of the actual misery that 
exists in the world arises from derangement of 
moral feeling, and the various consequences 
which result from it both to individuals and 
communities. We find also, by innumerable 
examples, the remarkable influence produced 
by a due cultivation of these feelings, in alle- 
viating, both in ourselves and others, the physi- 
cal evils which are inseparable from the present 
state. It is farther to be remarked, as a fact 
worthy of the deepest attention, that the only 
distinct information conveyed to us in Scrip- 
ture, respecting the happiness of the righteous 
in a future state, is, — that it will consist chiefly 
in a perfect knowledge of the divine character, 
and a conformity of the soul to the moral per- 
fections of the Deity. " It doth not yet ap- 
pear," says the sacred writer, " what we shall 
be ; but we know that when he shall appear, 
we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he 
is." 



DUE REGULATION OF THEM. 115 

In concluding the whole subject of the affec- 
tions, I have only farther to remark, — that the 
regulated state of the moral feelings, which has 
been the subject of the preceding observations, 
seems to correspond with the quality so empha- 
tically described in the sacred writings under 
the name of Charity. It is there uniformly re- 
presented as the great test of the moral condi- 
tion; and we find exposed, in the most striking 
manner, the worthlessness of all endowments 
which are not accompanied by this regulation 
of the whole character. We cannot, therefore, 
conclude this subject in a more appropriate 
manner, than by a passage in which, by a few 
most powerful expressions, a code of ethical 
science is laid before us with a clearness and a 
force, which put to nought all human composi- 
tion : — " Though I speak with the tongues of 
men and of angels, and have not charity, I am 
become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cym- 
bal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, 
and understand all mysteries, and all know- 
ledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I 
could remove mountains, and have not charity, 



116 



AFFECTIONS. 



I am nothing. And though I bestow all my 
goods to feed the poor, and though I give my 
body to be burned, and have not charity, it 
profiteth me nothing. Charity suffereth long, 
and is kind ; charity envieth not ; charity 
vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not 
behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is 
not easily provoked, thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth 
not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; bear- 
eth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all 
things, endureth all things. Charity never fail- 
eth ; but whether there be prophecies, they shall 
fail; whether there be tongues, they shall 
cease ; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish 
away. For we know in part, and we prophesy 
in part. But when that which is perfect is 
come, then that which is in part shall be done 
away. When I w T as a child, I spake as a child, 
I understood as a child, I thought as a child; 
but when I became a man, I put away childish 
things. For now we see through a glass, dark- 
ly; but then face to face; now I know in part; 
but then shall I know even as also I am known. 
And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these 



SELF-LOVE. 117 

three, — but the greatest of these is cha- 
rity." 



SECT. III. 



SE LF-LOVE. 



There has been some dispute respecting the 
term Self-love, both as to its general propriety, 
and as to the mental feelings which ought to be 
referred to it. There can be no doubt that 
there is, in our constitution, a principle or pro- 
pensity which leads us to study our own interest, 
gratification, and comfort ; and that, in many 
instances, it becomes the ruling principle of the 
character. It is in this sense that I use the 
term self-love, without entering into any discus- 
sion regarding the strict logical propriety of it. 
Like the other mental feelings, it is to be con- 
sidered as part of our -moral constitution, and 



118 SELF-LOVE. 

calculated to answer important purposes, pro- 
vided it be kept in its proper place, and do not 
encroach upon the duties and affections which 
we owe to other men. When thus regulated, 
it constitutes prudence, or a just regard to our 
own interest, safety, and happiness ; when it 
becomes morbid in its exercise, it degenerates 
into selfishness. 

A sound and rational self-love ought to lead 
us to seek our own true happiness, and should 
prove a check upon those appetites and passions 
which interfere with this ; for many of them, it 
must be allowed, may not be less adverse to our 
own real interest and comfort, than they are to 
our duty to other men. It should lead us, 
therefore, to avoid every thing, not only that is 
opposed to our interest, but that is calculated 
to impair our peace of mind, and that harmony 
of the moral feelings without which there can 
be no real happiness. This includes a due re- 
gulation of the desires, and a due exercise of 
the affections, as a moral condition which pro- 
motes our own welfare and comfort. Self-love, 
viewed in this manner, appears to be placed as 



SELF-LOVE. 119 

a regulating principle among the other powers, 
— much inferior indeed to the great principle of 
conscience, so far as regards the moral condi- 
tion of the individual, — but calculated to answer 
important purposes in promoting the harmonies 
of society. The impression, on which its influ- 
ence rests, appears to be simply the comfort 
and satisfaction which arise to ourselves from a 
certain regulation of the desires, and a certain 
exercise of the affections, while feelings of an 
opposite kind follow a different conduct. These 
sources of satisfaction are manifold. We may 
reckon among them the pleasure attached to 
the exercise of the affections themselves, a fea- 
ture of our moral constitution of the most inte- 
resting kind, — the true mental peace and enjoy- 
ment which spring from benevolence, friend- 
ship, meekness, forgiveness, and the whole train 
of the kindly feelings, — the gratitude of those 
who have experienced the effects of our kind- 
ness, — the respect and approbation of those 
whose esteem we feel to be valuable, — and the 
return of similar affections and good offices from 
other men. On the other hand, we have to keep 



120 SELF-LOVE. 

in mind the mental agony and distraction which 
arise from jealousy, envy, hatred, and resent- 
ment, — the sense of shame and disgrace which 
follow a certain line of conduct, — and the dis- 
tress which often arises purely from the con- 
tempt and disapprobation of our fellow-men. 
" Disgrace," says Butler, " is as much avoided 
as bodily pain ;" we may safely say that it is 
much more avoided, and that it inflicts a suf- 
fering of a much more severe and permanent 
nature. It must likewise accord with the ob- 
servation of every one, that among the circum- 
stances which most frequently injure our peace 
and impair our comfort, are those which ruffle 
the mind by mortifying our self-love. There is 
also a feeling of dissatisfaction and self-re- 
proach which follows any neglect of a due exer- 
cise of the affections, and which, in a well-regu- 
lated mind, disturbs the mental tranquillity 
fully as much as the disapprobation of other 
men. It is farther evident, that the man of un- 
governed passions, and ill-regulated affections, 
impairs his own peace and happiness as much as 
he violates his duties to others, — for his course 



SELF-LOVE. 121 

of life is productive, not only of degradation in 
the eyes of his fellow-men, but often of mental 
anguish, misery, disease, and prematura death. 
There is not, perhaps, a state of more intense 
suffering, than when the depraved heart, disap- 
pointed of those gratifications to which it is en- 
slaved, and shut up from the excitements by 
which it seeks to escape from the horrors of re- 
flection, is thrown back upon itself to be its own 
tormentor. To run the risk of such conse- 
quences, for the gratification of a present appe- 
tite or passion, is clearly opposed to the dictates 
of a sound self-love, as has been distinctly shewn 
by Bishop Butler; and when in such a case, 
self-love prevails over an appetite or passion, 
we perceive it operating as a regulating princi- 
ple in the moral system. It does so, indeed, 
merely by the impression, that a certain regu- 
lation of the moral feelings is conducive to our 
own true and present happiness ; and thus 
shews a wonderful power of compensation 
among these feelings, referable entirely to this 
source. But it is quite distinct from the great 
principle of conscience, which directs us to a 



122 SELF-LOVE. 

certain line of conduct on the pure and high 
principle of moral duty, apart from all conside- 
rations of a personal nature, — which leads a 
man to act upon nobler motives than those 
which result from the most refined self-love, 
and calls for the mortification of all personal 
feelings, when these interfere, in the smallest 
degree, with the requirements of duty. This 
distinction I conceive to be of the utmost prac- 
tical importance ; as it shews a principle of re- 
gulation among the moral feelings themselves, 
by which a certain exercise of the affections is 
carried on in a manner which contributes in a 
high degree to the harmonies of society, but 
which does not convey any impression of moral 
approbation or merit that can be applied to the 
agent. 

Self-love, then, leads us to consult our own 
feelings, and to seek directly our own interest 
and happiness. The affections lead us to allow 
for the feelings, and consider the advantage and 
comfort of other men; and a certain balance 
between these principles is essential to the 
healthy state of the moral being. It is seldom 



SELF-LOVE. 123 

that the affections are likely to acquire an un- 
due influence, but there is great danger of self- 
love degenerating into selfishness, which inter- 
feres with the duties we owe to others. We 
have formerly alluded to the means, referable 
to the due exercise of the affections, and even 
to a sound and rational self-love, by which this 
should be in part prevented. When these are 
not sufficient, the appeal is to conscience ; or a 
distinct reference of individual cases is made to 
the great principle of moral rectitude. We 
find, accordingly, this principle called into ac- 
tion, when a man has become sensible of impor- 
tant defects in his moral habits. Thus, we may 
see a man, who has long given way to a peevish 
or irascible disposition, that is, to selfish acting 
upon his own feelings, without due regard to 
the feelings of others, setting himself to con- 
tend with this propensity upon the score of mo- 
ral duty; while another, of a placid disposition, 
has no need of bringing the principle into ac- 
tion for such a purpose. In the same manner, 
a person who has indulged a cold contracted 
selfishness may, under the influence of the same 



124 SELF-LOVE. 

great principle, perform deeds of benevolence 
and kindness. Thus we perceive that the moral 
principle or sense of duty, when it is made the 
regulating*motive of action, is calculated to con- 
trol self-love, and preserve the proper harmony 
between it and the exercise of the affections. 

When the principle of self-love becomes de- 
ranged in its exercise and objects, it leads to 
those habits by which a man seeks his own gra- 
tification, in a way which interferes with his du- 
ties to other men. This he may do by an un- 
due pursuit of any of the desires, — whether 
avarice, ambition, love of eminence, or love of 
fame ; — and the desire of knowledge itself may 
be so indulged as to assume the same charac- 
ter. Even deeds of benevolence and kindness 
may be performed on this principle, — as when 
a man, by such actions, seeks only the applause 
of the public, or the approbation of certain in- 
dividuals from whom, it may be, he expects to 
derive advantage. — Hence the value we attach, 
in the exercise of all the affections, to what 
we call disinterested conduct, — to him who 
does good by stealth, or who performs acts 



SELF-LOVE. 125 

of exalted justice, generosity, or forbearance 
under circumstances which exclude every idea 
of a selfish motive, — or when self-interest and 
personal feeling are strongly and obviously op- 
posed to them. Such conduct commands the 
cordial approbation of all classes of men; and it 
is striking to remark how, in the highest con- 
ception of such a character that fancy can deli- 
neate, we are met by the sublime morality of the 
sacred writings, impressed upon us by the purest 
of all motives, the imitation of Him who is the 
giver of all good ; — " love your enemies, — bless 
them that curse you ; — do good to them that 
hate you, — and pray for them which despiteful- 
ly use you and persecute you ; — that ye may 
be the children of your Father which is in hea- 
ven : for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil 
and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just 
and on the unjust." — " If any man will be my 
disciple," says the same great author of Chris- 
tianity, — " let him deny himself." 



PART II. 



OF THE WILL. 



Will or Simple" Volition is that state of mind 
which immediately precedes action; — We will 
a certain act ; and the act follows, unless it be 
prevented either by external restraint, or by 
physical inability to perform it. 

The actions thus produced arise out of the 
mental emotions formerly treated of, — the de- 
sires, and the affections. — We desire an object, 
or we experience one of the affections ; — the 
next mental act, according to the regular course 
of a reflecting mind, is proposing to ourselves 
the question, — shall we gratify the desire, — shall 
we exercise the affection. Then follows the 



THE WILL. 127 

process of considering or deliberating. — We 
perceive, perhaps a variety of considerations or 
inducements, — some of which are in favour of 
gratifying the desire or exercising the affection, 
others opposed to it. We therefore proceed to 
weigh the relative force of these opposing mo- 
tives, w r ith the view of determining which of 
them we shall allow to regulate our decision. 
We, at length, make up our mind on this, 
and resolve, we shall suppose, to do the act ; — 
this is followed by the mental condition of will- 
ing or simple volition. 

In the chain of mental operations, which, in 
such a case, intervene between the desire and 
the volition, a class of agents is brought into 
view which act upon the mind as moral causes 
of its volitions ; — these are usually called mo- 
tives, — or principles of action. When treating 
of this subject as a branch of the philosophy of 
the intellectual powers, I endeavoured to shew 
the grounds on which we believe, that there are 
facts, truths, motives, or moral causes, which 
have a tendency thus to influence the determi- 
nations of the mind, with a uniformity similar 



128 THE WILL. 

to that which we observe in the operation of 
physical causes. For the due operation of mo- 
ral causes, indeed, certain circumstances are 
required in the individual on whom they are 
expected to operate; and, without these, they 
may fail in their operation. It is necessary that 
he should be fully informed in regard to them 
as truths addressed to his understanding, — that 
he direct his attention to them with suitable 
intensity, and exercise his reasoning powers 
upon their tendencies, — and that he be himself in 
a certain healthy state of moral feeling. In all 
our intercourse with mankind, accordingly, we 
proceed upon an absolute confidence in the uni- 
formity of the operation of these causes, pro- 
vided we are acquainted with the moral con- 
dition of the individual. We can foretell, for 
example, the respective effects which a tale of 
distress will have upon a cold-hearted miser, 
and a man of active benevolence, with the same 
confidence with which we can predict the diffe- 
rent actions of an acid upon an alkali and upon 
a metal ; and there are individuals in regard 
to whose integrity and veracity, in any situa- 



UNIFORMITY OF MORAL CAUSES. 129 

tion in which they can be placed, we have a 
confidence similar to that with which we rely on 
the course of nature. In this manner we gra- 
dually acquire, by experience, a knowledge of 
mankind; precisely as, by observation, or expe- 
riment, we acquire a knowledge of the opera- 
tion of physical agents. Thus we come to know 
that one man is absolutely to be relied on, in 
regard to a particular line of conduct in given 
circumstances ; — and that another is not to be 
relied on, if any thing should come in the way, 
affecting his own pleasure or interest. In en- 
deavouring to excite various individuals to the 
same conduct in a particular case, we learn, 
that in one, we have to appeal only to his sense of 
duty, — in another, to his love of approbation ; 
— while, on a third, nothing will make any im- 
pression except what bears upon his interest or 
his pleasure. Again, when we find that, in a 
particular individual, certain motives or truths 
fail of the effects which we have observed them 
to produce on others, we endeavour to impress 
them upon his mind, and to rouse his attention 
to their bearings and tendencies ; — and this we 



130 THE WILL. 

do from the conviction, that these truths have 
a certain uniform tendency to influence the voli- 
tions of a moral being, provided he can be in- 
duced seriously to attend to them, and provided 
he is in that moral condition which is required 
for their efficiency. 

In all such cases, which are familiar to every- 
one, we recognise, therefore, a uniform relation 
between certain moral causes or motives, and 
the determinations of the human mind in willing 
certain acts. It is no objection to this, that 
men act in very different ways with the same 
motives before them ; — for this depends upon 
their own moral condition. When treating of 
the intellectual powers, I alluded to the meta- 
physical controversies connected with this sub- 
ject, and I do not mean to recur to them here. 
Our present object is entirely of a practical na- 
ture, — namely, to investigate the circumstances 
which are required for the due operation of mo- 
tives or moral causes, and the manner in which 
the moral feelings may be so deranged, that 
these fail of producing their natural or proper 
effects. 



UNIFORMITY OF MORAL CAUSES. 131 

Let us, then, suppose an individual deliberat- 
ing in regard to the line of conduct he shall 
pursue in a particular case ; — the circumstances 
or impressions which are calculated to act 
upon him as moral causes in determining his 
volition, — that is, in deciding his conduct, are 
chiefly the following. (1.) Self-love, which 
prompts him to seek his own ease, interest, or 
gratification. (2.) Certain affections which lead 
him to take into view duties which he owes to 
other men ; such as, justice, benevolence, &c. 
(3.) The impression of moral rectitude or moral 
responsibility. This is derived from the great 
principle of conscience, aided by the truths of 
religious belief. (4.) We ought to add reason 
or judgment, which leads him to perceive cer- 
tain tendencies of actions, apart from their mo- 
ral aspect. Now, in deciding on his conduct 
in any particular instance, one man makes 
every thing bend to his own interest or plea- 
sure, with little regard to the interests of 
others; — unless in so far as the absolute require- 
ments of justice are concerned, the infringe- 
ment of which might expose him to loss of re- 



132 THE WILL. 

putation, or even to punishment. — Another sur- 
renders a certain portion of his personal grati- 
fication to the advantage or comfort of others, 
purely as an exercise of feeling from which he 
experiences satisfaction ; influenced, also, pro- 
bably, in some measure, by a regard to charac- 
ter, or the love of approbation. In such a 
man, it becomes, in individual instances, a mat- 
ter of calculation, what degree of the sacrifice 
of personal ease, interest, or feeling, is to be 
made to this principle of action. A third con- 
templates the case purely as one of duty or mo- 
ral responsibility, and acts upon this principle, 
though it may involve a degree of personal exer- 
tion, or a sacrifice of personal feeling, in itself 
disagreeable or even injurious to him ; that is, 
though the strongest personal motives would 
lead to a different conduct. Let the case, 
again, refer to one of the desires, bearing no 
immediate relation to the interests of other men. 
One man goes directly into the gratification of 
it, without any consideration. Another, who 
feels the same desire, considers the influence 
which the indulgence would be likely to have 



PRINCIPLES WHICH REGULATE IT. 133 

on his health, interest, or reputation. — This 
may be considered as simply an exercise of 
judgment, combined with a certain operation of 
self-love. A third views the aspect of the deed 
purely as a question of moral responsibility, — 
and, if he sees cause, decides against it on this 
ground alone ; — though he should perceive that 
it might be gratified without any danger to his 
health, interest, or reputation, or even that it 
might contribute to his advantage. 

We have thus presented to us three charac- 
ters ; — one who acts upon the high and pure 
ground of moral principle ; — one who acts from 
motives of a more contracted and personal na- 
ture, though, in certain instances, his conduct 
may be the same; — and one who goes straight 
forward to the gratification of a ruling desire 
or governing propensity, without attending to 
motives of either class. The first is a uniform 
character, on whose conduct we depend in any 
given circumstances, with a confidence similar 
to that with which we rely on the operation of 
physical agents. For we know the uniform 
tendencies of the motives or moral causes by 



134 THE WILL. 

which he is habitually influenced, and we know 
his moral temperament. We have nearly the 
same kind of knowledge respecting him, which 
we have of the tendencies of chemical agents 
towards each other, and which enables us with 
perfect confidence to foretell their actions. The 
third has also a uniformity of conduct, though 
of a very different kind. We know, likewise, 
his moral condition, and, to predict his conduct, 
we require only to learn the particular induce- 
ments or temptations to which he is exposed in 
a given instance. The second we cannot rely 
or calculate upon ; for we have not the means 
of tracing the conflicting views by which he may 
be influenced in a particular case, or the prin- 
ciple on which he may ultimately decide between 
them. They involve the strength of the incli- 
nation, — and the degree of power exerted over 
it by the class of personal or selfish motives by 
which he is influenced. — In regard to various 
instances of ill-regulated desire, we must add 
his hope of evading detection,— as on this de- 
pends, in a great measure, the kind of evils 
dreaded by him in reference to the indulgence. 



PRINCIPLES WHICH REGULATE IT. 135 

These taken together imply a complicated mo- 
ral calculation, of which it is impossible for 
another man to trace the result. 

There cannot be an inquiry of more intense 
interest than to investigate the causes in which 
originate the differences among these three cha- 
racters : or, in other words, the principles on 
which we can explain the fact, that the will of 
individuals may be influenced so differently with 
the same motives before them. These appear 
to be referable to three heads, — Knowledge, — 
Attention, — and Moral Habits, 

1. A primary and essential element, in the 
due regulation of the will, is a correct know- 
ledge of the truths and motives which tend to 
influence its determinations. The highest class 
of these comprehends the truths of religious 
belief, — a series of moral causes the tendencies 
of which are of the most important kind, and 
calculated to exert a uniform power over every 
man who surrenders himself to their guidance. 
For this purpose, a correct knowledge of them 
is required ; and, to all who have this knowledge 



J 36 



THE WILL. 



within their reach, the careful acquisition involves 
a point of the deepest moral responsibility. 
The sacred writers speak in the strongest terms 
of the guilt attached to voluntary ignorance : 
and this must be obvious to every one who con- 
siders the clearness with which the highest 
truths are disclosed, and the incontrovertible 
evidence by which they are supported. This 
applies equally to the principles both of natu- 
ral and of revealed religion. The important 
truths of natural religion are partly matters of 
the most simple induction from the phenomena 
of nature which are continually before us ; and 
partly impressed upon our own moral constitu- 
tion in the clearest and most forcible manner. 
From the planet revolving in its appointed or- 
bit, to the economy of the insect on which we 
tread, all nature demonstrates, with a power 
which we cannot put away from us, the great 
incomprehensible One, a being of boundless 
perfections and infinite wisdom. In regard to 
his moral attributes, also, he has not left him- 
self without a witness ; for a sense of these he 
has impressed upon us in the clearest manner 



INFLUENCE OP KNOWLEDGE. 137 

in that wondrous part of our constitution, — the 
moral principle or conscience. From these two 
sources may be derived a knowledge of the 
character of the Deity, and of our relation to 
him as moral beings ; — and the man is left en- 
tirely without excuse who fails to direct to them 
his most earnest attention, and to make the 
impressions derived from them the habitual 
rule of his volitions, and the guide of his whole 
character. " He hath the rule of right with- 
in," says Butler, " all that is wanting is, — that 
he honestly attend to it." 

Similar observations apply with equal or 
greater force to the truths of revealed religion. 
These are supported by a weight of miraculous 
evidence, and are transmitted to us by a chain 
of testimony, carrying absolute conviction to 
the mind of every candid enquirer. They are 
farther confirmed by a probability, and a force 
of internal evidence, which fix themselves upon 
the moral feelings of every sound understand- 
ing with a power which is irresistible. The 
whole is addressed to us as rational beings ; it 
is pressed upon our attention as creatures 



138 THE WILL. 

destined for another state of existence ; and the 
duty is imposed upon every individual seriously 
to examine and to consider. Every man is in 
the highest degree responsible for the care with 
which he has informed himself of these evidences, 
and for the attention with which he has given to 
every part of them its due weight in the solemn 
inquiry. He is farther responsible for the in- 
fluence of previously formed prejudice, or that 
vitiated state of his moral feelings, which pre- 
vents him from approaching the subject with 
the simplicity of a mind which is seriously de- 
sirous of the truth. From the want of these 
essential elements of character, it may very 
often happen, that a man may fancy he has 
formed his opinions after much examination, 
while the result of his prejudiced or frivolous 
inquiry has been only to fix him in delusion 
and falsehood. Among the singular sophistries, 
indeed, by which some men shut their minds 
against inquiries of the highest import, is a 
kind of impression, not perhaps distinctly avow- 
ed in words, but clearly recognised in practice, 
that these subjects of belief are in a great mea- 



INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 139 

sure matters of opinion, — instead of being felt 
to rest upon the basis of immutable and eter- 
nal truth. Can any thing be more striking 
than the manner in which a late distinguished 
poet expresses himself on the subject of a future 
life, as if this truth were a mere opinion which 
could be taken up or laid down at pleasure, to 
suit the taste of the individual inquirer ; — " Of 
the two I should think the long sleep better 
than the agonized vigil. But men, miserable 
as they are, cling so to any thing like life, that 
they probably would prefer damnation to quiet. 
Besides, they think themselves so important in 
the creation, r that nothing less can satisfy their 
pride, — the insects !"* Such is the frivolous 
sophistry by which one, holding a high rank in 
the literature of his country, could put away 
from him the most momentous inquiry that can 
engage the attention of a rational being. 

II. Next to the acquisition of knowledge, 
and the formation of opinions, calculated to act 

* Byron's Letters, Moore's Life, Vol. II, p. 58 U 



140 THE WILL. 

upon us as moral beings, is the important rule 
of habitually attending to them, so as to bring 
their influence to bear upon our volitions, He T 
who honestly attends to what is passing within^ 
will perceive that this is a voluntary exercise of 
his thinking and reasoning faculties. When a 
particular desire is present to his mind, he has 
the power to act upon the first impulse, or 
upon a very partial and limited, perhaps a dis- 
torted view of the considerations and motives 
by which he ought to be influenced ; — and he 
has the power to suspend acting, and direct his 
attention deliberately and fully to the facts and 
principles which are calculated to guide his de- 
termination. This is the first great step in 
that remarkable chain of sequences which be- 
long to the regulation of the will. It is what 
every one is conscious of; and, putting aside 
all those metaphysical subtleties in which the 
subject has been involved, this constitutes man 
a free and responsible agent. In this impor- 
tant process, the first mental state is a certain 
movement of one of the desires or one of the 
affections ; — we may use the term Inclination 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. .141 

as including both. The second is a reference 
of the inclination to the moral causes or motives 
which more particularly apply to it, — especially 
the indications of conscience, and the principles 
of moral rectitude. — If these be found to har- 
monize with the inclination, volition and action 
follow, with the full conciirrence of every moral 
feeling. If the inclination be condemned by 
these, it is, in a well-regulated mind, instantly 
dismissed, and the healthy condition of the mo- 
ral being is preserved. But this voluntary and 
most important mental process may be neglect- 
ed ; — the inclination may be suffered to engross 
the mind and occupy fully the attention : — the 
power may not be exercised of directing it to 
moral causes and motives, and of comparing 
with them the inclination which is present. 
The consequence may be, that the man runs 
heedlessly into volition and action, from which 
the due exercise of this process of the mind 
might have preserved him. 

But a third condition may take place which 
presents a subject of the highest interest. The 
moral causes may be so far attended to, as to 



142 THE WILL. 

prevent the inclination from being followed by 
action ; while the inclination is still cherished, 
and the mind is allowed to dwell, with a certain 
feeling of regret, on the object which it had 
been obliged to deny itself. Though the actual 
deed be thus prevented, the harmony of the 
moral feelings is destroyed ; — and that mental 
condition is lost which is strictly to be called 
purity of heart. For this consists in the de- 
sires and affections, as well as the conduct, be- 
ing in strict subjection to the indications of con- 
science and the principles of moral rectitude. 
The inclination, thus cherished, gradually ac- 
quires greater ascendancy over the moral feel- 
ings ; — at each succeeding contest, it more and 
more occupies the mind ; the attention is less 
and less directed to the moral truths and mo- 
tives which are opposed to it ; the inclination at 
length acquires the predominance, and is follow- 
ed by volition. This is what we mean by a 
man being carried away by passion, in opposi- 
tion to his moral conviction ; for passion con- 
sists in a desire or an affection which has been 
allowed to engross the mind, until it gradually 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 143 

overpowers the moral causes which are calcul- 
ated to counteract its influence. Now in the 
whole of this course each single movement of 
the mind is felt to be entirely voluntary. From 
that step, which constitutes the first departure 
from moral purity, the process consists in a de- 
sire being cherished which the moral feelings 
condemn ; while, at each succeeding step, the in- 
fluence of these feelings is gradually weakened, 
and finally destroyed. Such is the economy of 
the human heart, and such the chain of se- 
quences to be traced in the moral history of 
every man, who, with a conviction upon his mind of 
what is right, has followed the downward course 
which gradually led him astray from virtue. 
When we trace such a process backwards in a 
philosophical point of view, the question still re- 
curs — what was the first step, or that by which 
the mind was led into the course which thus 
terminated in favour of vice. In the wonderful 
chain of sequences, which has been established 
in the mental constitution, it would appear that 
a very slight movement only is required for de- 
ranging the delicate harmony which ought to 



144 THE WILL. 

exist among the moral feelings ; but this each 
individual feels to be entirely voluntary. It may 
consist in a desire being cherished which the 
moral feelings disapprove ; — ^and, though the 
effect at first may be small, a morbid influence 
has arisen, which gains strength by continuance, 
and at last acquires the power of a moral habit. 
The more the desire is cherished, the less is the 
attention directed to the considerations or moral 
causes by which it might be counteracted. In 
this manner, according to the mental economy, 
these causes gradually lose their power over the 
volitions or determinations of the mind; and, at 
a certain period of this progress, the judgment 
itself comes to be changed respecting the moral 
aspect of the deed. 

There is still another mental condition to be 
mentioned in connexion with this subject ; in 
which the harmony of the moral feelings may be 
destroyed, without the action following. This 
takes places when the inclination is cherished, 
as in the former case, in opposition to the indi- 
cations of conscience; while the action is oppos- 
ed by some inferior motives, — as a regard to 



INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 145 

reputation or interest, The deed may thus be 
prevented, and the interests of society may 
benefit by the difference ; but, so far as regards 
the individual himself, the disruption of moral 
harmony is the same; and his moral aspect must 
be similar in the eye of the Almighty One, who 
regards not the outward appearance alone, but 
who looketh into the heart. In this manner it 
may very often happen, that strong inducements 
to vice are resisted from motives referring merely 
^to health, or to character. But this is not to 
overcome temptation, — it is only to balance one 
selfish feeling against another. 

III. From the state of mind which has now 
been referred to, there gradually results a Moral 
Habit. This is a mental condition, in which a 
desire or an affection, repeatedly acted upon, is, 
after each repetition, acted upon with less and 
less effort ; — and, on the other hand, a truth or 
moral principle, which has been repeatedly 
passed over without adequate attention, after 
every such act makes less and less impression, 
until at length it ceases to exert any influence 



146 



THE WILL. 



over the moral feelings or the conduct. I had 
occasion to illustrate this remarkable principle 
in another point of view, when treating of the 
connexion between the emotions of sympathy 
and benevolence, and the conduct which natur- 
ally arises out of them. This conduct at first 
may require a certain effort, and is accompani- 
ed by a strong feeling of the emotion which 
leads to it. But, after each repetition, the acts 
go on with less feeling of the emotion, and less 
reference to the principle from which they 
spring; while there is progressively forming the 
habit of active benevolence. It is precisely the 
same with habits of vice. At first a deed re- 
quires an effort, — and a powerful contest with 
moral principles; and it is speedily followed by 
that feeling of regret, to which superficial ob- 
servers give the name of repentance. This is 
the voice of conscience ; but its power is more 
and more diminished after each repetition of the 
deed; — even the judgment becomes perverted 
respecting the first great principles of moral 
rectitude; and acts, which at first occasioned a 
violent conflict, are gone into without remorse, 



INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 147 

or almost without perception of their moral as- 
pect. A man in this situation may still retain 
the knowledge of truths and principles which 
at one time exerted an influence over his con- 
duct; but they are now matters of memory 
alone. Their power as moral causes is gone, 
and even the judgment is altered respecting 
their moral tendencies. He views them now 
perhaps as the superstitions of the vulgar, or 
the prejudices of a contracted education; and 
rejoices, it may be, in his emancipation from 
their authority. He knows not, — for he has 
not the moral perception now to know, that he 
has been pursuing a downward course, and that 
the issue, on which he congratulates himself, 
consists in his last degradation as a moral be- 
ing. Even in this state of moral destitution, 
indeed, the same warning principle may still 
raise its voice, — unheeded but not subdued, — 
repelled as an enemy, not admitted as a friendly 
monitor and guide. " I have not the smallest 
influence over Lord Byron, in this particular," 
writes one of the chosen friends of that distin- 
guished individual, — " if I had, I certainly should 



1 48 THE WILL. 

employ it to eradicate from his great mind the 
delusions of Christianity, which, in spite of his 
reason, seem perpetually to recur, and to lay 
in ambush for the hours of sickness and dis- 
tress." It would be interesting to know what 
the particular impressions were, from which this 
sympathizing friend was anxious to rescue the 
poet. They were probably the suggestions of a 
power within, which, in certain seasons of re- 
flection, compelled his attention in spite of his 
attempts to reason against it, — pleading with 
authority for a present Deity, and a life to 
come. 

The principle of Habit, therefore, holds a 
most important place in the moral condition of 
every man; and it applies equally to any spe- 
cies of conduct, or any train of mental opera- 
tions, which, by frequent repetition, have be- 
come so familiar, as not to be accompanied by 
a recognition of the principles in which they 
originated. In this manner good habits are 
continued without any immediate sense of the 
right principles by which they were formed; 
but they arose from a frequent and uniform act- 



INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 149 

ing upon these principles, and on this is found- 
ed the moral approbation which we attach to 
habits of this description. In the same man- 
ner, habits of vice, and habits of inattention to 
any class of duties, are perpetuated without a 
sense of the principles and affections which 
they violate; but this arose from a frequent 
violation of these principles, and a frequent re- 
pulsion of these affections, until they gradually 
lost their power over the conduct; and in this 
consists the guilt of habits. Thus, one person 
acquires habits of benevolence, veracity, and 
kindness, — of minute attention to his various 
duties, — of correct mental discipline, — and ac- 
tive direction of his thoughts to all those ob- 
jects of attention which ought to engage a well- 
regulated mind : — Another sinks into habits of 
listless vacuity or frivolity of mind,— of vicious 
indulgence and contracted selfishness, — of ne- 
glect of important duties, disregard to the feel- 
ings of others, and total indifference to all those 
considerations and pursuits which claim the 
highest regard of every responsible being ; and 
the striking fact is, that, after a certain period, 



150 THE WILL. 

all this may go on without a feeling that aught 
is wrong either in the moral condition, or the 
state of mental discipline; such is the power of 
a moral habit. 

The important truth, therefore, is deserving 
of the deepest and most habitual attention, that 
character consists in a great measure in habits, 
and that habits arise out of individual actions, 
and individual operations of the mind. Hence 
the importance of carefully weighing every ac- 
tion of our lives, and every train of thought 
that we encourage in our minds; for we never 
can determine the effect of a single act, or a 
single mental process, in giving that influence 
to the character, or to the moral condition, the 
result of which shall be decisive and permanent. 
In the whole history of habits, indeed, we see a 
wondrous display of that remarkable order of 
sequences which has been established in our 
mental constitution, and by which every man 
becomes, in an important sense, the master of 
his own moral destiny. For each act of virtue 
tends to make him more virtuous; and each act 
of vice gives new strength to an influence with- 



INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 151 

in, which will certainly render him more and 
more vicious. 

These considerations have a practical tenden- 
cy of the utmost interest. In subduing habits 
of an injurious character, the laws of mental se- 
quences, which have now been referred to, must 
be carefully acted upon. When the judgment, 
influenced by the indications of conscience, is 
convinced of the injurious nature of the habit, 
the attention must be steadily and habitually 
directed to the truths which produced this im- 
pression. There will thus arise desire to be de- 
livered from the habit, — or, in other words, to 
cultivate the course of action that is opposed to 
it. This desire, being cherished in the mind, is 
then made to bear upon every individual case in 
which a propensity is felt towards particular ac- 
tions, or particular mental processes, referable 
to the habit. The new inclination is at first 
acted upon with an effort, but, after every in- 
stance of success, less effort is required, until at 
length the new course of action is confirmed, 
and overpowers the habit to which it was op- 
posed. But that this result may take place, it 



152 THE WILL. 

is necessary that the mental process be follow- 
ed, in the manner distinctly indicated by the 
philosophy of the moral feelings; for if this is 
not attended to, the expected effect may not 
follow, even under circumstances which appear, 
at first sight, most likely to produce it. On 
this principle we are to explain the fact, that 
bad habits may be long suspended by some 
powerful extrinsic influence, while they are in 
no degree broken. Thus, a person addicted to 
intemperance will bind himself by an oath to 
abstain, for a certain time, from intoxicating 
liquors. In an instance which has been related 
to me, an individual under this process observ- 
ed the most rigid sobriety for five years, but 
was found in a state of intoxication the very 
day after the period of abstinence expired. In 
such a case, the habit is suspended by the mere 
influence of the oath; but the desire continues 
unsubdued, and resumes all its former power 
whenever this artificial restraint is withdrawn. 
The effect is the same as if the man had been 
in confinement during the period, or had been 
kept from his favourite indulgence by some 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 153 

other restraint entirely of an external kind; 
the gratification was prevented, but his moral 
nature continued unchanged. 

These principles may be confidently stated as 
facts in the moral constitution of man, challeng- 
ing the assent of every candid observer of hu- 
man nature. Several conclusions seem to arise 
out of them, of the utmost practical importance. 
We perceive, in the first place, a state which 
the mind may attain, in which there is such a 
disruption of its moral harmony, that no power 
appears in the mind itself capable of restoring 
it to a healthy condition. This important fact 
in the philosophy of human nature has been 
clearly recognised, from the earliest ages, on 
the mere principles of human science. It is dis- 
tinctly stated by Aristotle in his Nicomachean 
Ethics, where he draws a striking comparison 
between a man who, being first misled by so- 
phistical reasonings, has gone into a life of vo- 
luptuousness, under an impression that he was 
doing no wrong, — and one who has followed the 
same course in opposition to his own moral con- 
victions. The former he contends might be re- 



154 THE WILL. 

claimed by argument; but the latter he consi- 
ders as incurable. In such a state of mind, 
therefore, it follows, by an induction which can- 
not be controverted, either that the evil is irre- 
mediable and hopeless, or that we must look 
for a power from without the mind which may 
afford an adequate remedy. We are thus led 
to perceive the adaptation and the probability 
of the provisions of Christianity, where an in- 
fluence is indeed disclosed to us, capable of re- 
storing the harmony which has been lost, and 
raising man anew to his place as a moral being. 
We cannot hesitate to believe that the Power, 
who framed the wondrous fabric, may thus hold 
intercourse with it, and redeem it from disorder 
and ruin. On the contrary, it accords with the 
highest conceptions we can form of the bene- 
volence of the Deity, that he should thus look 
upon his creatures in their hour of need; and 
I the system disclosing such communication ap- 
pears, upon every principle of sound philosophy, 
to be one of harmony, consistency, and truth. 
The subject, therefore, leads our attention to 
that inward change, so often the scoff of the 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 155 

profane, but to which so prominent a place is 
assigned in the sacred writings, in which a man 
is said to be created anew by a power from 
Heaven, and elevated in his whole views and 
feelings as a moral being. Sound philosophy 
teaches us, that there is a state in which no- 
thing less than such a complete transformation 
can restore the man to a healthy moral condi- 
tion, and that, for producing it, nothing will 
avail but an inflilence from without the mind, — 
a might and a power from the same Almighty 
One who originally framed it. Philosophy 
teaches, in the clearest manner, that a portion 
of mankind require such a transformation; 
Christianity informs us that it is required by 
all. When the inductions of science and the 
dictates of revelation harmonize to this extent, 
who shall dare to assert that the latter are not 
truth. Who, that places himself in the pre- 
sence of a being of infinite purity, will say, he 
requires not such a change; or that, for the 
production of it, he needs no agency, beyond 
the resources of his own mind. If none be 
found who is entitled to believe he forms the 



156 * THE WILL. 

exception, we are forced into the acknowledge- 
ment of the truth, so powerfully impressed upon 
us in the sacred writings, that, in the eye of the 
Almighty One, no man in himself is righteous; 
and that his own power avails not for restoring 
him to a state of moral purity. 

From the whole of this inquiry, we see the 
deep influence of habits, and the fearful power 
which they may acquire over the whole moral 
system ; considerations of the highest practical 
interest to those who would prevent the forma- 
tion of habits of an injurious nature, or who, 
feeling their influence, strive to be delivered 
from them. There is indeed a point in this 
downward course, where the habit has acquired 
undisputed power, and the whole moral feelings 
yield to it unresisting submission. Peace may 
then be within, but that peace is the stillness of 
death ; and, unless a voice from heaven shall 
wake the dead, the moral being is lost. But, 
in the progress towards this fearful issue, there 
may be a tumult, and a contest, and a strife, 
and the voice of conscience may still command 
a certain attention to its warnings. While 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 157 

there are these indications of life, there is yet 
hope of the man ; but on each moment is now 
suspended his moral existence. Let him retire 
from the influence of external things ; and listen 
to that voice within, which, though often un- 
heeded, still pleads for God. Let him call to 
aid those high truths which relate to the pre- 
sence and inspection of this Being of infinite 
purity, and the solemnities of a life which is to 
come. Above all, let him look up in humble 
supplication to that pure and holy One, who is 
the witness of this warfare, — who will regard it 
with compassion, and impart his powerful aid. 
But let him not presumptuously rely on this 
aid, as if the victory were already secured. 
The contest is but begun ; and there must be a 
continued effort, and unceasing watchfulness, — 
a habitual direction of the attention to those 
truths which, as moral causes, are calculated to 
act upon the mind, — and constant reliance upon 
the power from on high which is felt to be real 
and indispensable. With all this provision, his 
progress may be slow ; for the opposing princi- 
ple, and the influence of established moral ha- 



158 THE WILL. 

bits, may be felt contending for their former 
dominion; but by each advantage that is 
achieved over them, their power will be broken, 
and finally destroyed. Now in all this contest 
towards the purity of the moral being, each 
step is no less a process of the mind itself than 
the downward course by which it was preceded. 
It consists in a surrender of the will to the sug- 
gestions of conscience, and a habitual direction 
of the attention to those truths which are cal- 
culated to act upon the moral volitions. In 
this course, the man feels that he is authorized 
to look for a might and an influence not his 
own. This is no imaginary or mysterious im- 
pression, which one may fancy that he feels, 
and then pass on contented with the vision ; 
but a power which acts through the healthy 
operations of his own mind ; it is in his own 
earnest exertions, as a rational being, to regu- 
late these operations, that he is encouraged to 
expect its communication ; and it is in feeling 
these assuming the characters of moral health, 
that he has the proof of its actual presence. 
And where is the improbability that the pure 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 159 

and holy One, who framed the wondrous moral 
being, may thus hold intercourse with it, and 
impart an influence in its hour of deepest need. 
According to the utmost of our conceptions, it 
is the highest of his works, — for he has endow- 
ed it with the power of rising to the contem- 
plation of himself, and with the capacity of 
aspiring to the imitation of his own moral per- 
fections. We cannot, for a moment, doubt, 
that his eye must reach its inmost movements, 
and that all its emotions, and desires, and voli- 
tions are exposed to his view. We must believe 
that he looks with displeasure when he per- 
ceives them wandering from himself; and con- 
templates with approbation the contest, when 
the spirit strives to throw off its moral bon- 
dage, and to fight its way upwards to a confor- 
mity to his will. Upon every principle of sound 
philosophy, all this must be open to his inspec- 
tion; and we can perceive nothing opposed to 
the soundest inductions of reason in the belief, 
that he should impart an influence to the feeble 
being in this high design, and conduct him to 
its accomplishment. In all this, in fact, there 



160 THE WILL. 

is so little improbability, that we find it impos- 
sible to suppose it could be otherwise. We 
find it impossible to believe, that such a men- 
tal process could go on without the knowledge 
of him whose presence is in every place, — or 
that looking upon it, he should want either the 
power or the willingness to impart his effectual 
aid. 

But, independently of our conviction of an 
actual communication from the Deity, there is 
a power in the mind itself, which *is calculated 
to draw down upon it an influence of the most 
efficient kind. This is produced by the mental 
process which we call Faith: and it may be il- 
lustrated by an impression which many must 
have experienced. Let us suppose that we 
have a friend of exalted intelligence and virtue, 
who has often exercised over us a commanding 
influence, — restraining us from pursuits to which 
we felt an inclination, — exciting us to virtuous 
conduct, — and elevating, by his intercourse with 
us, our impressions of a character on which we 
wished to form our own. Let us suppose that 
we are removed to a distance from this friend, 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 161 

and that circumstances of difficulty or danger 
occur, in which we feel the want of a guide and 
counsellor. In the reflections which the situa- 
tion naturally gives rise to, the image of our 
friend is brought before us; an influence is con- 
veyed analogous to that which was often pro- 
duced by his presence and counsel ; — and we 
feel as if he were actually present, to tender his 
advice and watch our conduct. How much 
would this impression be increased, could we 
farther entertain the thought, that this absent 
friend was able in some way to communicate 
with us, so far as to be aware of our present 
circumstances, and to perceive our efforts to re- 
call the influence of his character upon our 
own. — Such is the intercourse of the soul with 
God. — Every movement of the mind is known 
to him; his eye is present with it, when, in any 
situation of duty, distress, or mental discipline, 
the man, under this exercise of faith, realizes 
the presence and character of the Deity, and 
solemnly inquires how, in the particular in- 
stance, his moral feelings and his conduct will 



162 THE WILL. 

appear in the eye of him who seeth in secret. 
This is no vision of the imagination, but a fact 
supported by every principle of sound reason, — 
the influence which a man brings down upon 
himself, when, by an effort of his own mind, he 
thus places himself in the immediate presence 
of the Almighty. The man who does so in 
every decision of life is he who lives by faith ; 
— and, whether we regard the inductions of 
reason, or the dictates of sacred truth, such a 
man is taught to expect an influence greater 
and more effectual still. This is a power imme- 
diately from God, which shall be to him direc- 
tion in every doubt, — light in every darkness, — 
strength in his utmost weakness, — and comfort 
in all distress ; — a power which shall bear upon 
all the principles of his moral nature, when he 
carries on the mighty conflict of bringing every 
desire and every volition under a conformity to 
the divine will. We again hazard with confi- 
dence the assertion, that in all this there is no 
improbability ; — -but that, on the contrary, the 
improbability is entirely on the other side, — in 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 163 

supposing that any such mental process could 
take place, without the knowledge and the in- 
terposition of that incomprehensible One, whose 
eye is upon all his works. 



PART III. 



OF THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, OR 
CONSCIENCE. 



There has been much dispute respecting the 
nature and even the existence of the Moral 
Principle, as a distinct element of our mental 
constitution ; but this controversy may proba- 
bly be considered as allied to other speculations 
of a metaphysical nature, in regard to which a 
kind of evidence was sought of which the sub- 
jects are not susceptible. Without arguing 
respecting the propriety of speaking of a sepa- 
rate power or principle, we simply contend for 
the fact, that there is a mental exercise, by 
which we feel. certain actions to be right, and 
certain others- wrong. It is an element or a 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 1 65 

movement of our moral nature which admits 
of no analysis, and no explanation ; and is 
referable to no other principle than a simple 
recognition of the fact, which forces itself upon 
the conviction of every man who looks into 
the processes of his own mind. Of the exist- 
ence and the nature of this most important 
principle, therefore, the evidence is entirely 
within. We appeal to the consciousness of 
every man, that he perceives a power which, in 
particular cases, warns him of the conduct 
which he ought to pursue, and administers a 
solemn admonition when he has departed from 
it. For, while his judgment conveys to him an 
impression, both of the tendencies and certain 
of the qualities of actions, he has, besides this, 
a feeling by which he views the actions with 
approbation or disapprobation, in reference 
purely to their moral aspect, and without any 
regard to their consequences. When we refer 
to the sacred writings, we find the principle of 
conscience represented as a power of such im- 
portance, — that, without any acquired know- 
ledge, or any actual precepts, it is sufficient to 



166 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



establish, in every man, such an impression of 
his duty as leaves him without excuse in the 
neglect of it: — " For when the Gentiles, which 
have not the law, do by nature the things con- 
tained in the law, these, having not the law, 
are a law unto themselves ; which shew the 
work of the law written in their hearts, their con- 
science also bearing witness, and their thoughts 
the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one 
another." We even find a power assigned 
to the decisions of conscience, different in ex- 
tent only, but not in kind, from the judgment 
of the Almighty; — " If our heart condemn us, 
God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all 
things." 

The province of conscience then appears to 
be, to convey to man a certain conviction of 
what is morally right and wrong, in regard to 
conduct in individual cases, — and to the general 
exercise of the desires or affections. This it 
does independently of any acquired knowledge, 
and without reference to any other standard of 
duty. It does so by a rule of right which it 
carries within itself, — and by applying this to 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 167 

the primary moral feelings, that is, the desires 
and affections, so as to indicate among them a 
just and healthy balance towards each other. 
The desires direct us to certain gratifications 
which we feel to be worthy of acquirement ; and 
the affections lead us to a certain course of 
conduct which we feel to be agreeable to our- 
selves, or useful to others. But, to act under 
the influence of conscience is to perform actions, 
simply because we feel them to be right, and to 
abstain from others, simply because we feel 
them to be wrong, — without regard to any 
other impression, or to the consequences of the 
actions either to ourselves or others. He who 
on this principle performs an action, though it 
may be highly disagreeable to him, or abstains 
from another, though it may be highly desirable, 
is a conscientious man. Such a man, under the 
influence of habit, comes to act more and more 
easily under the suggestions of conscience, and 
to be more and more set free from every feeling 
and propensity that is opposed to it. Con- 
science seems therefore to hold a place among 
the moral powers, analogous to that which 



1 68 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

reason holds among the intellectual; — and, 
when we view it in this relation, there appears 
a beautiful harmony pervading the whole eco- 
nomy of the mind. 

By certain intellectual operations, man ac- 
quires the knowledge of a series of facts ; — he 
remembers them, — he separates and classifies 
them, — and forms them into new combinations. 
But, with the most active exercise of all these 
operations, his mind might present an accumu- 
lation of facts, without order, harmony, or 
utility; — without any principle of combination, 
or combined only in those fantastic and extrava- 
gant forms which appear in the conceptions of 
the maniac. It is Reason that reduces the 
whole into order and harmony, — by comparing, 
distinguishing, and tracing their true analogies 
and relations, — and then by deducing truths as 
conclusions from the whole. It is in this 
manner particularly, that a man acquires a 
knowledge of the uniform actions of bodies on 
each other, — and, confiding in the uniformity 
of these actions, learns to direct his means to 
the ends which he has in view. He knows also 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 169 

his own relations to other sentient beings, — and 
adapts his conduct to them, according to the 
circumstances in which he is placed, — the per- 
sons with whom he is connected,— and the 
objects which he wishes to accomplish. He 
learns to accommodate his measures to new cir- 
cumstances as they arise, — and thus is guided 
and directed through his physical relations. 
When reason is suspended, all this harmony is 
destroyed. The visions of the mind are acted 
upon as facts ; things are combined into fantas- 
tic forms, entirely apart from their true rela- 
tions ; — conduct is widely at variance with what 
circumstances require ; — ends are attempted by 
means which have no relation to them ; — and 
the ends themselves are equally at variance 
with those which are suitable to the circum- 
stances of the individual. Such is the maniac, 
whom accordingly we shut up, to prevent him 
from being dangerous to the public ; — for he 
has been known to mistake so remarkably the 
relation of things, and the conduct adapted to 
his circumstances, 'as to murder his most va- 
luable friend, or his own helpless infant. 



170 THE MOBAL PRINCIPLE. 

In all this process there is a striking analogy 
to certain conditions of the moral feelings, and 
to the control which is exercised over them by 
the principle of Conscience. By self-love, a 
man is led to seek his own gratification or ad- 
vantage; — and the desires direct him to certain 
objects by which these propensities may be gra- 
tified. But the affections carry forth his views 
to other men with whom he is connected by va- 
rious relations, and to the offices of justice, ve- 
racity, and benevolence, which arise out of 
them. Conscience is the regulating power, 
which, acting upon the desires and affections, 
as reason does upon a series of facts, preserves 
among them harmony and order. It does so 
by repressing the propensity of selfishness, 
and reminding the man of the true relation be- 
tween regard to his own interest and the du- 
ties he owes to other men. It regulates his 
desires and pursuits, by carrying his views be- 
yond present feelings and present gratifications, 
to future times and future consequences, — and 
by raising his attention to his relation to the 
great moral Governor of the universe. He thus 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 1 7l 

learns to adapt his conduct and pursuits, not 
to present and transient feelings, but to an ex- 
tended view of his great and true interests as a 
moral being. Such is conscience, — still, like 
reason, pointing out the moral ends a man 
ought to pursue, and guiding him in the means 
by which he ought to pursue them ; — and the 
man does not act in conformity with the consti- 
tution of his nature, who does not yield to con- 
science the supremacy and direction over all 
his other feelings and principles of action. 
But the analogy does not stop here ; — for we 
can also- trace a condition in which this con- 
trolling influence of conscience is suspended or 
lost. I formerly endeavoured to trace the man- 
ner in which this derangement arises, and have 
now only to allude to its influence on the har- 
mony of the moral feelings. Self-love degene- 
rates, into low selfish gratification : the desires 
are indulged without any other restraint than 
that which arises from a mere selfish principle, 
— as a regard to health, perhaps in some degree 
to reputation ; the affections are exercised only 
in so far as similar principles impose a certain 



1 72 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

degree of attention to them : present and mo- 
mentary impulses are acted upon, without any 
regard to future results ; conduct is adapted to 
present gratification, without the perception 
either of its moral aspect, or its consequences 
to the man himself as a responsible being ; and 
without regard to the means by which these 
feelings are gratified. In all this violation of 
moral harmony, there is no derangement of the 
ordinary exercise of judgment. In the most 
remarkable example that can be furnished by 
the history of human depravity, the man may 
be as acute as ever in the details of business 
or the pursuits of science. There is no dimi- 
nution of his sound estimate of physical rela- 
tions, — for this is the province of reason. But 
there is a total derangement of his sense and 
approbation of moral relations, — for this is 
conscience. Such a condition of mind, then, 
appears to be, in reference to the moral feel- 
ings, what insanity is in regard to the intellec- 
tual. The intellectual maniac fancies himself 
a king, surrounded by every form of earthly 
splendour, — and this hallucination is not cor- 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 1 73 

reeled even by the sight of his bed of straw 
and all the horrors of his cell. The moral ma- 
niac pursues his way, aud thinks himself a wise 
and a happy man ; — but feels not that he is 
treading a downward course, and is lost as a 
moral being. 

In the preceding observations respecting the 
moral principle or conscience, I have alluded 
chiefly to its influence in preserving a certain 
harmony among the other feelings, — in regulat- 
ing the desires by the indications of moral pu- 
rity, — and preventing self-love from interfering 
with the duties and affections which we owe to 
other men. But there is another and a most 
important purpose which is answered by this 
faculty, and that is to make us acquainted with 
the moral attributes of the Deity. In strict 
philosophical language we ought perhaps to say, 
that this high purpose is accomplished by a 
combined operation of conscience and reason ; 
but, however this may be, the process ap- 
pears clear and intelligible in its nature, and 
fully adapted to the end now assigned to it. 



1 74 THE MOEAL PKIN&PLE. 

From a simple exercise of mind directed to the 
great phenomena of nature, we acquire the 
knowledge of a First Cause, — a being of infi- 
nite power and infinite wisdom; and this conclu- 
sion is impressed upon us in a peculiar manner, 
when, from our own bodily and mental endow- 
ments, we infer the attributes of him who fram- 
ed us : — " he that planted the ear," says a sa- 
cred writer, " shall he not hear; — he that form- 
ed the eye, shall he not see ; — he that teacheth 
man knowledge, shall not he know?" When 
we trace backwards a series of finite yet intelli- 
gent beings, we must arrive at one of two con- 
clusions: — We must either trace the series 
through an infinite and eternal succession of 
finite beings, each the cause of the one which 
succeeded it; — or we must refer the com- 
mencement of the series to one great intelligent 
being, himself uncaused, infinite, and eternal. 
To trace the series to one being, finite, yet un- 
caused, is totally inadmissible; and not less so 
is the conception of finite beings in an infinite 
and eternal series. The belief of one infinite be- 
ing, self-existent and eternal, is, therefore, the 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 1 75 

only conclusion at which we can arrive, as pre- 
senting any characters of credibility or truth. 
The superintending care, the goodness, and be- 
nevolence of the Deity, we learn with a feeling 
of equal certainty, from the ample provision he 
has made for supplying the wants and minis- 
tering to the comfort of all the creatures whom 
he has made. This part of the argument, also, 
is in the clearest manner insisted upon in the 
sacred writings, when the apostle Paul, in calling 
upon the people at Lystra to worship the true 
God, who made heaven and earth, adds, as a 
source of knowledge from which they ought to 
learn his character : — "he left not himself with- 
out a witness, in that he did good, and gave us 
rain from heaven and fruitful seasons, filling 
our hearts with food and gladness." 

A being, thus endowed with infinite power, 
wisdom, and goodness, we cannot conceive to 
exist without moral feelings; and, by a process 
equally obvious, we arrive at a distinct know- 
ledge of these, when, from . the moral percep- 
tions of our own minds, we infer the moral at- 
tributes of him who thus formed us, We have 



1 76 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

certain impressions of justice, veracity, compas- 
sion, and moral purity, in regard to our own 
conduct, — we have a distinct approbation of 
these qualities in others, — and we attach a 
feeling of disapprobation to the infringement of 
them. By a simple step of reasoning, which 
conveys an impression of absolute conviction, 
we conclude that he, who formed us with these 
feelings, possesses, in his own character, corres- 
ponding moral attributes, which, while they re- 
semble in kind, must infinitely exceed in degree, 
those qualities in the wisest and the best of men. 
In our actual observation of mankind, we per- 
ceive these attributes impaired in their exercise 
by human weakness, distorted by human pas- 
sion, — and impeded in their operation by per- 
sonal wants, personal feelings, and selfish inte- 
rests. But, apart from such deteriorating 
causes, we have a certain abstract idea of the 
full and perfect exercise of those qualities; and 
it is in this pure and perfect form that we as- 
cribe them to the Almighty. In him, they can 
be impeded by no weakness, — distorted by no 
passion, and impaired in their operation by no 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 177 

personal interest. We therefore conclude him 
to be perfect in the exercise of all these moral 
attributes, and to take the most rigid estimate 
of any infringement of them by man : — this is 
what we call the holiness of God. Even the 
man, who has himself departed from moral rec- 
titude, still feels a power within, which points 
with irresistible force to what is purity, and 
fixes upon him a conviction that God is pure. 

When we view such a Being apart from any 
inferior creature, all seems harmony and consis- 
tency; — we have only to contemplate him as 
high and holy, and enjoying perfect happiness 
in his own spotless attributes. But when we 
view him in relation to man in a state of moral 
discipline, and, in that state, tainted deeply 
with moral evil, a difficulty arises of appall- 
ing magnitude. There is ample scope now, we 
perceive, for the exercise of his holiness, veracity, 
and justice; and he appears in sublime and ter- 
rible majesty, in his exalted character as a moral 
governor. But, amid such a display, there is 
an obvious interruption to the exercise of com- 
passion, — especially in that essential depart- 



1 78 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

ment of it, — mercy or forgiveness. This attri- 
bute may be exercised without restraint by an 
individual, where his own interests alone are 
concerned, because in him it involves only a 
sacrifice of self-love. But forgiveness in a moral 
governor either implies an actual change of pur- 
pose, or supposes a former decision to have been 
made without sufficient knowledge of, or due at- 
tention to, all the facts by which he ought to 
have been influenced ; — it denotes either undue 
rigour in the law, or ignorance or inattention 
in him who administers it, and it may very often 
interfere with the essential requisites of justice. 
But, in a moral governor of infinite perfection, 
there can be neither ignorance of facts nor 
change of purpose ; — the requirements of his 
justice must stand unshaken ; and his law, writ- 
ten on the hearts of all his rational creatures, 
must be upheld, in the face of the universe, as 
holy, and just, and good. Is, then, the exer- 
cise of mercy to be excluded from our concep- 
tion of the divine character,^-and is there no 
forgiveness with God. — The soundest inductions 
of philosophy, applied to the actual state of 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 179 

man, bring us to this momentous question ; but 
the highest efforts of human science fail to an- 
swer it. It is in this our utmost need, that we are 
met by the dictates of revelation, and are called 
to humble the pride of our reason before that 
display of the harmony and integrity of the di- 
vine character. We there learn the truths, 
far beyond the inductions of human science, and 
the utmost conceptions of human thought, — that 
an atonement is made, a sacrifice offered ; — and 
that the exercise of forgiveness is consistent 
with the perfections of the Deity. Thus, by a 
process of the mind itself, which seems to pre- 
sent every element of fair and logical reasoning, 
we arrive at a full conviction of the necessity, 
and the moral probability, of that truth which 
forms the great peculiarity of the Christian re- 
velation. More than any other in the whole 
circle of religious belief it rises abo^e the induc- 
tions of science, while reason, in its soundest 
conclusions, recognises its probability, and re- 
ceives its truth; and it stands forth alone, simply 
proposed to our belief, and offered to our ac- 



1 80 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

ceptance, on that high but peculiar evidence by 
which is supported the testimony of God. 

The truth of these considerations is impressed 
upon us in the strongest manner, when we turn 
our attention to the actual moral condition of 
mankind. When we contemplate man, as he 
is displayed to us by the soundest inductions of 
philosophy, — his capacity for distinguishing 
truth from falsehood, and evil from good ; the 
feelings and affections which bind him to his 
fellow men, and the powers which enable him to 
rise to intercourse with God : — when we consi- 
der the power which sits among his other prin- 
ciples and feelings, as a faithful monitor and 
guide, carrying in itself a rule of rectitude with- 
out any other knowledge, and a right to govern 
without reference to any other authority ; we 
behold a fabric complete and harmonious in all 
its parts, and eminently worthy of its Almighty 
Maker ; — we behold an ample provision for 
peace, and order, and harmony in the whole 
moral world. But, when we compare with these 
inductions the actual state of man, as displayed 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 181 

to us in the page of history, and in our own daily 
observation, the conviction is forced upon us, 
that some mighty change has taken place in 
this beauteous system, some marvellous disrup- 
tion of its moral harmony. The manner in 
which this condition arose, — or the origin of 
moral evil under the government of God, is a 
question entirely beyond the reach of the human 
faculties. — It is one of those, however, on which 
it is simply our duty to keep in mind, that our 
business is, not with the explanation, but with 
the fact"; — for, even by the conclusions of phi- 
losophy, we are compelled to believe, that man 
has fallen from his high estate, and that a pes- 
tilence has gone abroad over the face of the 
moral creation. 

In arriving at this conclusion, it is not with 
the inductions of moral science alone that we 
compare or contrast the actual state of man. 
For one bright example has appeared in our 
world, in whom was exhibited human nature in 
its highest state of order and harmony. In re- 
gard to the mighty purposes which he came to 
accomplish, indeed, philosophy fails us, and we 



182 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

are called to submit the inductions of our rea- 
son to the testimony of God. But when we 
contemplate his whole character purely as a 
matter of historical truth, — the conviction is 
forced upon us, that this was the highest state 
of man; — and the inductions of true science 
harmonize with the impression of the Roman 
centurion, when, on witnessing the conclusion 
of the earthly sufferings of the Messiah, he ex- 
claimed — " truly this was the Son of God." 

When we endeavour to trace the manner in 
which mankind have departed so widely from 
this high pattern, we arrive at moral phenome- 
na of which we can offer no explanation. But 
an inquiry of much greater importance is, to 
mark the process by which, in individual in- 
stances, conscience ceases to be the regulating 
principle of the character ; and this is a simple 
and legitimate object of philosophical observa- 
tion. There cannot, indeed, be an inquiry of 
more intense and solemn interest, than to 
trace the chain of sequences which has been es- 
tablished in the mind of man as a moral being. 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 183 

We can view it only as a matter of fact, with- 
out being able to refer it to any other principle 
than the will of Him who framed us ; — but the 
facts which are before us claim the serious at- 
tention of every man, who would cultivate that 
most important of all pursuits, — the knowledge 
of his own moral condition. The fact to which 
I chiefly allude is a certain relation, formerly 
referred to, between the truths which are cal- 
culated to act upon us as moral causes, and the 
mental emotions which ought to result from 
them ; and between these emotions and a cer- 
tain conduct which they tend to produce. If 
the due harmony between these be carefully 
cultivated, the result is a sound moral condi- 
tion ; but by every instance in which this har- 
mony is violated, a morbid influence is intro- 
duced, which gains strength in each succeed- 
ing volition, and carries disorder through the 
moral economy. We have formerly illustrated 
this important moral process, by the relation 
between the emotion of compassion, and the 
conduct which ought to arise from it. If this 
tendency of the emotion be diligently cultivat- 



184 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

ed, the result is the habit of active benevo- 
lence ; — but if the emotion be violated, its influ- 
ence is progressively diminished, and a charac- 
ter is produced of cold and barren selfishness. 

A similar chain of sequences is to be observ- 
ed respecting the operation of those great 
truths, which, under the regulating power of 
conscience, are calculated to act as moral 
causes in our mental economy ;— we may take, 
for example, the truths relating to the charac- 
ter and perfections of the Deity, and the influ- 
ence which these ought to produce upon every 
rational being. We have seen the knowledge 
which we derive from the light of nature re- 
specting the attributes of God, when, from his 
works around us, we discover him as a being of 
infinite power, wisdom, and goodness; and 
when, from the moral impressions of our own 
minds we infer his perfections as a Gover- 
nor of infinite holiness, justice, and truth. By 
a proper direction of the mind to the truths 
which are thus conveyed to us respecting the 
Deity, there would naturally arise a correspond- 
ing chain of emotions of which he is the object. 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 185 

These are a sense of veneration towards him, 
as infinitely great, wise, and powerful, — of love 
and thankfulness, as infinitely good, — and of 
habitual regard to his authority and will, as a 
moral governor of purity and justice, and as re- 
quiring a corresponding character in all his 
creatures. A close and constant relation ought 
to be preserved between these truths and these 
emotions, and on this depends the moral har- 
mony of the mind. The preservation of this 
harmony, again, is intimately connected with a 
mental process which every man feels to be vo- 
luntary, — or in his power to perform, if he wills. 
It consists in a careful direction of the mind to 
such truths, so as to enable them to act as mo- 
ral causes in the mental economy :— by the es- 
tablished order of moral sequences, the emo- 
tions naturally follow: — these are then to be 
cherished with satisfaction and reverence ; and 
a corresponding influence upon the character 
and conduct is the farther consequence. But 
the first step in this important process may be 
neglected ; the mind may not be directed with 
due care to the truths which thus claim its 



186 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



\ 



highest regard, — and the natural result is a 
corresponding deficiency in the emotions and 
conduct which ought to flow from them. This 
will be the case in a still higher degree, if there 
has been formed any actual derangement of the 
moral condition, — if deeds have been committed, 
or even desires cherished, and mental habits 
acquired, by which the indications of conscience 
have been violated. The moral harmony of the 
mind is then lost, and, however slight may be 
the first impression, a morbid influence has be- 
gun to operate in the mental economy, which 
tends gradually to gain strength, until it be- 
comes a ruling principle in the whole character. 
The truths connected with the divine perfec- 
tions are now neither invited nor cherished, but 
are felt to be intruders which disturb the men- 
tal tranquillity. The attention ceases to be di- 
rected to them, and the corresponding emotions 
vanish from the mind. Such appears to be the 
moral history of those, who, in the striking lan- 
guage of the sacred writings, " do not like to 
retain God in their knowledge." 

When the harmony of the mind has been 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 187 

impaired to this extent, another mental condi- 
tion arises, according to the wondrous system of 
moral sequences. This consists in a distortion 
of the understanding itself, regarding the first 
great principles of moral truth. For a fear- 
less contemplation of the truth, respecting the 
divine perfections, having become inconsistent 
with the moral condition of the mind, there 
arises a desire to discover a view of them more 
in accordance with its own feelings. This is 
followed, in due course, by a corresponding train 
of its own speculations ; and these, by a mind 
so prepared, are received as truth. The inven- 
tions of the mind itself thus become the regulat- 
ing principles of its emotions, and this mental 
process, advancing from step to step, terminates 
in moral degradation and anarchy. 

Nothing can be more striking than the man- 
ner in which these great principles of ethical 
science are laid down in the sacred writings ; — 
" the invisible things of him from the creation 
of the world are clearly seen, being understood 
by the things that are made, even his eternal 



188 



THE MOEAL PRINCIPLE. 



\ 



power and Godhead, so that they are without 
excuse : Because that, when they knew God, 
they glorified him not as God, neither were 
thankful; but became vain in their imagina- 
tions, and their foolish heart was darkened. 
Professing themselves to be wise, they became 
fools ; and changed the glory of the uncorrupti- 
ble God into an image made like to corruptible 
man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and 
creeping things." — " And even as they did not 
like to retain God in their knowledge, God 
gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do 
those things which are not convenient." The 
various steps in this course of moral degrada- 
tion, are here represented as a judicial infliction 
by the Deity. But this solemn view of the 
subject is in no degree inconsistent with the 
principle, that it takes place according to a 
chain of sequences existing in the mind itself. 
For the Almighty One, who is said to inflict 
as a judgment this state of moral ruin, is the 
same who established it as the uniform result 
of a process in the mental economy, to be traced 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 189 

in the history of every man who has followed 
the downward course which led him astray from 
virtue. 

To the principles which have now been stat- 
ed, we are also to refer a point in the philoso- 
phy of human nature which presents a subject 
of most interesting reflection. I allude to the 
fact, that the great truths of religious belief are 
so often rejected by men who have acquired a 
reputation for exalted powers of understanding 
in other departments of intellectual inquiry. 
The fact is one of intense interest ; and we can 
scarcely wonder that superficial observers should 
have deduced from it an impression, that it im- 
plies something defective in the evidence by 
which these truths are proposed to our recep- 
tion. But the conclusion is entirely unwarrant- 
ed ; and the important principle cannot be too 
often repeated that the attainment of truth in 
moral inquiries is essentially connected with 
the moral condition of the inquirer. On this de- 
pends the anxious care with which he has direct- 
ed his mind to the high pursuit, under a deep 
and solemn feeling of its supreme importance. 



190 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

On this depends the sincere and humble and 
candid love of truth with which he has con- 
ducted it, apart alike from prejudice and frivo- 
lity. For without these essential elements of 
character, the most exalted intellect may fail of 
reaching the truth, — the most acute understand- 
ing may only wander into delusion and false- 
hood. 

Before concluding this subject, there is 
another point which deserves to be alluded to ; 
— namely, the influence produced upon all our 
moral judgments and decisions by Attention. 
This important process of the mind we have 
had occasion to mention in various parts of our 
inquiry. It consists, as we have seen, in direct- 
ing the thoughts, calmly and deliberately, to 
all the facts and considerations by which we 
ought to be influenced in the particular case 
which is under our view ; and it should be ac- 
companied by an anxious and sincere desire to 
be guided, both in our opinions and conduct, 
by the true and relative tendency of each of 
them. It is a voluntary process of the mind 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 191 

which every man has the power to perform; and 
on the degree in which it is habitually exercis- 
ed, depend some of the great differences between 
one man and another in their moral condition. 
We have repeatedly had occasion to mention 
that morbid state of the mind, in which moral 
causes seem to have lost their proper influence, 
both on the volitions of the will, and even on 
the conclusions of the judgment : — But it is a 
truth which cannot be too often referred to, 
how much this condition is influenced by the 
mental process which we are now considering. 
It originates, indeed, in some degree of that 
distortion of moral feeling, in consequence of 
which the inclinations wander from the strict 
path of rectitude; — but the primary effect of 
this loss of mental harmony, and that by which 
it is perpetuated, appears to be chiefly a habi- 
tual misdirection of the attention, — or a total 
want of consideration of the truths and motives 
by which the moral judgments and decisions 
ought to be influenced. Apart from this con- 
dition of the mind, indeed, there is reason to 
believe, that the actual differences in moral 



\ 



192 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

judgment are in different men less than we are 
apt to imagine. " Let any honest man," says 
Butler, " before he engages in any course of 
action, ask himself, — is this I am going to do 
right, or is it wrong, — is it good, or is it evil : 
I do not in the least doubt but that these 
questions would be answered agreeably to truth 
and virtue by almost any fair man in almost 
any circumstances." It is in a great mea- 
sure from the want of this simple exercise of 
attention, or of what in common language we 
call calm reflection, that men are led away, by 
passion, prejudice, and distorted moral habits, 
into courses of action which their own sober 
judgment would condemn ; — and when a man, 
who has thus departed from rectitude, begins 
to retrace his way, the first great point is that 
where he pauses in his downward career, and 
seriously proposes to himself the question, 
whether the course he has followed be worthy 
of a moral being. I allude not here to the means 
by which a man is led to take this momentous 
step in his moral history, but only to the men- 
tal process of which it consists. It is primarily 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 193 

nothing more than an exercise of attention, 
calmly and deliberately directed to the truths 
and considerations by which his moral decisions 
ought to be influenced ; but, when a man has 
once been brought into this attitude of deep 
and serious thought, conscience comes to bear 
its part in the solemn process; and the inquirer 
is likely to arrive at just conclusions on those 
great questions of which he feels the importance ^ 
to his moral condition. 

It is on the principles now referred to, that, 
according to a doctrine which has been often 
and keenly controverted, we hold a man to be 
responsible for his belief. The state of mind 
which constitutes belief is, indeed, one over 
which the will has no direct power. But belief 
depends upon evidence ; — the result of even the 
best evidence is entirely dependent on atten- 
tion ; — and attention is a voluntary intellectual 
state over which we have a direct and absolute 
control. As it is, therefore, by prolonged and 
continued attention that evidence produces be- 
lief, a man may incur the deepest guilt by his 
disbelief of truths, which he has failed to examine 

H 



194 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

with the care which is due to them. This mental 
process is entirely under the control of the will ; 
but the will to exercise it respecting moral truth 
is closely connected with the love of that truth ; 
and this is intimately dependent on the state of 
moral feeling of the mind. It is thus that a 
man's moral condition influences the conclusions 
of his judgment ; — and it is thus, that, on the 
great questions of moral truth, there may be 
guilt attached to a process of the understanding, 
while there is both guilt and moral degradation 
in that mental condition from which it springs. 
A similar relation exists, as was formerly 
stated, between all our moral emotions, and 
processes which are felt to be entirely voluntary. 
These emotions are, properly speaking, not the 
objects of volition, nor do they arise directly at 
our bidding ; but, according to the constitution 
of the mind, they are the natural or established 
result of certain intellectual processes, and, in 
some sense, even of bodily actions, both of 
which are entirely voluntary. The emotions of 
compassion and benevolence, for example, are 
the natural result of the sight or even the de- 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 195 

seription of scenes of distress ; and the prim- 
ary steps in this process are entirely within our 
power to perform, if we will. We can visit the 
afflicted family, listen to their tale of distress, 
and consider their circumstances, — that is, ffive 
our attention to them in such a manner that 
the natural and proper effect may be produced 
upon our moral feelings. We can give the same 
kind of attention, and with a similar result, to 
a case which is only described to us by another ; 
or we may neglect all this mental process. En- 
grossed with the business or the frivolities of 
life, we may keep ourselves at a distance from 
the persons and the scenes that might operate 
in this manner on our moral feelings ; — we may 
refuse to listen to the tale of sorrow, or, if com- 
pelled to hear it, we may give it little attention 
and no consideration. The moral feeling does 
not follow, and this course, after a certain re- 
petition, terminates in confirmed and barren sel- 
fishness. We see many instances in which we 
distinctly recognise this course of mental or mo- 
ral sequence. If, in regard to a particular case 
of distress, for example, we have come to a 



196 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

deliberate conviction of the worthlessness of the 
individual, and have determined to withhold our 
aid, we refuse to see him, and we decline hear- 
ing from another any thing more of his history ; 
— we say, we have made up our mind not to 
allow our compassion to be any more worked 
upon in his favour. We thus recognise the na- 
tural relation between the sight or even the de- 
scription of distress, and the production of cer- 
tain feelings in ourselves: — and we recognise 
also the legitimate means for preventing this in- 
fluence in certain cases, in which, by a deliberate 
act of judgment, we have determined against 
having these feelings excited. If, notwithstand- 
ing this determination, we happen to be brought 
within the influence of the distress which we 
wished to avoid, we consider this as a sufficient 
ground for acting, in the instance, against our 
sober judgement. We had determined against 
it, we say, but what can you do when you see 
people starving. We thus recognise as legiti- 
mate that process by which, in certain cases, we 
keep ourselves beyond this influence; but we 
attach no feeling of approbation to the moral 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 197 

condition of him who, being subjected to the in- 
fluence, can resist it ; that is, who can really 
come into contact with distress, and shut his 
heart against it. And even with regard to the 
course which we here recognise as legitimate, 
much caution is required, before we allow a pro- 
cess of the judgment to interfere with the na- 
tural and healthy course of the moral feelings. 
If the interference arises, not from a sound pro- 
cess of the understanding, but from a course in 
which selfishness bears a considerable part, an 
injurious influence upon the moral condition of 
the mind is the necessary consequence. We 
thus perceive that, in the chain of sequences 
relating to the benevolent feelings, there are 
three distinct steps, — two of which are entirely 
under the control of the will. A man has it 
entirely in his power to place himself in contact 
with objects of distress, and to follow out the 
call of duty in considering their circumstances, 
and entering into their feelings. The natural 
result is a train of emotions which arise in his 
own mind, prompting him to a particular line 
of conduct. To act upon these emotions is 



198 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE* 

again under the power of his will ; and if the 
whole of this chain be duly followed, the result 
is a sound condition of this part of the moral 
economy. If either of the voluntary steps be 
neglected or violated, the mental harmony is 
lost, and a habit is formed of unfeeling selfish- 
ness. 

The principle, which has thus been illustrat- 
ed by the benevolent affections, is equally true 
of our other moral emotions. These emotions 
are closely connected with certain truths, which 
are calculated to give rise to them, according 
to the constitution of our moral economy. Now, 
the careful acquisition of the knowledge of these 
truths, and a serious direction of the attention 
to their tendencies, are intellectual processes 
which are as much under the power of our will, 
as are the acts of visiting and giving attention 
to scenes of distress ; and the due cultivation 
of them involves an equal degree of moral re- 
sponsibility. This again is connected with the 
remarkable power which we possess over the 
succession of our thoughts. We can direct 
the mind into a particular train ; we can con- 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 199 

tinue it and dwell upon it with calm and deli- 
berate attention, so that the truths which it 
brings before us may produce their natural 
and proper effect on our moral feelings. The 
emotions thus excited lead to a certain line of 
conduct, which also is voluntary; and on the 
due cultivation of this chain of sequences de- 
pends a healthy moral condition. But we may 
neglect those parts of the sequence which are 
under the control of our will. We may abstain 
from directing our attention to such truths ; 
we may view them in a slight, frivolous, or 
distorted manner, or we may dismiss them alto- 
gether; and, if any degree of the emotions 
should be excited, we may make no effort towards 
the cultivation of the conduct to which they 
would lead us. The due cultivation of this 
power over the succession of our thoughts, is 
that which constitutes one of the great differ- 
ences between one man and another, both as 
intellectual and moral beings ; — and, though 
correct moral emotions are not properly the 
objects of volition, it is thus that a man may 



200 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

incur the deepest moral guilt in the want of 
them. 

The subject also leads to conclusions of the 
greatest importance respecting the principles 
on which we ought to conduct religious instruc- 
tion, particularly in regard to the cultivation of 
religious emotions. It reminds us of the im- 
portant law of our nature, that all true cultiva- 
tion of religious emotion must be founded upon 
a sound culture of the understanding in the 
knowledge of religious truth, and a careful di- 
rection of the powers of reasoning and judging, 
both to its evidences and its tendencies. All 
impulse that does not arise in this manner can 
be nothing more than an artificial excitement 
of feeling, widely different from the emotion of 
a regulated mind. Such a system generates 
wild enthusiasm ; — and the principle is of pecu- 
liar and essential importance in the education 
of the young. In their susceptible minds reli- 
gious emotion is easily produced, and, by a 
particular management, may be fostered for a 
time. But those who have been trained in this 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 201 

manner are little qualified to meet the collisions 
of active life, and we need not wonder if they 
should make shipwreck of a faith which has 
not been founded in knowledge. 



Before leaving the subject of the Moral 
Principle, there are two points closely connect- 
ed with it which remain to be noticed. The 
one relates to the origin and immutability of 
moral distinctions, and, in connexion with this, 
a class of speculations which hold a conspicuous 
place in the history of Ethical science, under 
the name of Theories of Morals. The other re- 
fers to a certain harmony or principle of ar- 
rangement, which the different moral feelings 
ought to preserve towards each other in a well- 
regulated mind. 



202 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



§ L_OF THE ORIGIN AND IMMUTABILITY 

OF MORAL DISTINCTIONS AND 

THEORIES OF MORALS. 

In treating of the moral powers, I have con- 
sidered various feelings as distinct parts of our 
constitution, each intended to answer a specific 
purpose in the present scene of moral disci- 
pline. I am aware of an objection which may 
be urged against this mode of viewing the 
subject,— -namely, that it is an unnecessary 
multiplication of original principles. I am not 
inclined to dispute respecting the term original 
principles. I only contend for the fact, that 
there are certain feelings or propensities which 
are found to operate in the whole of mankind ; 
and, with regard to these, I consider our ob- 
ject to be, simply to view man as he is. In his 
physical relations, we find him endowed with a 
variety of senses, and a great variety of bodily 
functions, — each adapted to its proper purpose, 
and all distinct from each other ; and the phy- 
siologist is content to view them simply as they 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 203 

are. Were he to exercise his ingenuity upon 
them, he might contend with much plausibility, 
that it is highly incorrect to speak of five dis- 
tinct and separate senses ; — for that they are 
all merely modifications of sensation, differing 
only in the various kinds of the external im- 
pression. Thus, what is vulgarly called sight is 
the simple sensation of light, — and hearing is 
merely the sensation of sound. This would be 
all very true, — but it does not appear to eluci- 
date the subject; nor, by any ingenuity of such 
speculation, could we be enabled to know more 
concerning these senses than when we called 
them sight and hearing. In the same manner 
it would appear, that the course of inquiry re- 
specting our moral feelings, is simply to observe 
what these feelings really are, and what are 
their obvious tendencies. When we have done 
so on adequate foundation, I conceive we have 
every reason for considering them as principles 
implanted in us by the Creator, for guidance in 
our present relations ; and, like the functions 
of our bodies, so the powers and feelings of our 
minds shew a wonderful adaptation and design. 



204 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

worthy of their Omnipotent Cause. But we 
can know nothing of them beyond the facts, — 
and nothing is to be gained by any attempt, 
however ingenious, to simplify or explain them. 
We have formerly had occasion to allude to 
various speculations of a similar character, re- 
specting the powers of perception and simple 
intellect, — all of which have now given way be- 
fore the general admission of the truth, that, on 
the questions to which they refer, no human 
sagacity can carry us one step beyond the sim- 
ple knowledge of the facts. 

It will probably be admitted, that there have 
been many similar unprofitable speculations in 
the philosophy of the moral feelings ; and that 
these speculations, instead of throwing any light 
upon the subject, have tended rather to with- 
draw the attention of inquirers from the ques- 
tions of deep and serious importance connected 
with the investigation. Among these, perhaps, 
we may reckon some of the doctrines which 
hold a prominent place in the history of this 
branch of science, — under the name of Theories 
of Morals, These doctrines agree in admitting 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 205 

the fact, that there are among mankind certain 
notions respecting right and wrong, — moral and 
immoral actions ; and they then profess to ac- 
count for these impressions, — or to explain how 
men come to think one action right and another 
wrong. A brief view of these theories may 
properly belong to an outline of this department 
of science. 

In contemplating the conduct of men as 
placed in certain relations towards each other, 
we perceive some actions which we pronounce 
to be right, and others which we pronounce to 
be wrong. In forming our opinion of them in 
this manner, we refer to the intentions of the 
actor, and, if we are satisfied that he really in- 
tended what we see to be the effect or the ten- 
dency of his conduct, or even that he purposed 
something which he was prevented from accom- 
plishing, we view him with feelings of moral 
approbation or disapprobation, — or, in other 
words apply to him the award of praise or 
blame. Such is our simple idea of virtue or 
vice, as applied either to the act or the agent. 



206 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

We have a conviction that there is a line of 
conduct to which ourselves and others are 
bound by a certain kind of obligation ; — a de- 
parture from this constitutes moral demerit or 
vice ; — a correct observance of it constitutes 
virtue. 

This appears to be our primary impression of 
vice and virtue. The next question is, what is 
the origin of the impression, or on what ground 
is it that we conclude certain actions to be right 
and others wrong. Is it merely from a view of 
their consequences to ourselves or others ; or 
do we proceed upon an absolute conviction of 
certain conduct being right, and certain other 
wrong, without carrying the mind farther than 
the simple act, or the simple intention of the 
actor, — without any consideration of the effects 
or the tendencies of the action. This is the 
question which has been so keenly agitated in 
the speculations of Ethical science, namely, re- 
specting the origin and nature of moral dis- 
tinctions. On the one hand, it is contended, 
that these moral impressions are in themselves 
immutable, and that an absolute conviction of 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 20 7 

their immutability is fixed upon us in that part 
of our constitution which we call Conscience ; 
in other words, there is a certain conduct to 
which we are bound by a feeling of obligation, 
apart from all other considerations whatever ; 
and we have an impression that a departure 
from this in ourselves or others constitutes 
vice. On the other hand, it is maintained, that 
these distinctions are entirely arbitrary, or arise 
out of circumstances, so that what is vice in 
one case may be virtue in another. Those 
who have adopted the latter hypothesis have 
next to explain, what the circumstances are 
which give rise, in this manner, to our impres- 
sions of vice and virtue, moral approbation or 
disapprobation. The various modes of explain- 
ing this impression have led to the Theories of 
Morals, 

The system of Mandeville ascribes our im- 
pressions of moral rectitude entirely to the 
enactments of legislators. Man, he says, na- 
turally seeks only his own gratification, without 
any regard to the happiness of other men. 
But legislators found that it would be neces- 



\ 



208 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

sary to induce him, in some way, to surrender 
a portion of his personal gratification for the 
good of others, and so to promote the peace 
and harmony of society. To accomplish this 
with such a selfish being, it was necessary to 
give him some equivalent for the sacrifice he 
thus made ; and the principle of his nature 
which they fixed upon, for this purpose, was 
his love of praise. They made certain laws for 
the general good, and then flattered mankind 
into the belief that it was praiseworthy to ob- 
serve them, and noble to sacrifice a certain de- 
gree of their own gratification for the good of 
others. What we call virtue thus resolves itself 
into the love of praise. In regard to such a 
system as this, it has been thought sufficient to 
point out the distinction between the immuta- 
ble principles of morality, and those arrange- 
ments which are dependent upon mere enact- 
ment. Such are many of the regulations and 
restrictions of commerce. They are intended 
for the public good, and while they are in force, 
it is the duty of every good citizen to obey them. 
A change of the law, however, changes their 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 209 

character, for they possess in themselves none 
of the qualities of merit or demerit. But no 
laws can alter, and no statutes modify, those 
great principles of moral conduct which are 
graved indelibly on the conscience of all classes 
of men. Kings, it has been said, may make 
laws, but cannot create a virtue. 

By another modification of this system, our 
impressions of virtue and vice are said to be 
derived entirely from mutual compact. Men, 
finding that there was a certain course of action 
which would contribute to their mutual advan- 
tage, and vice versa, entered into an agreement 
to observe certain conduct, and abstain from 
certain other. The violation of this compact 
constituted vice, the observance of it virtue. 

By a theory supported by some eminent 
men, as Clark and Wollaston, virtue was con- 
sidered to depend on a conformity of the con- 
duct to a certain sense of the fitness of things, 
— or the truth of things. The meaning of this, 
it must be confessed, is rather obscure. It 
however evidently refers the essence of virtue 
to a relation perceived by a process of reason , 



210 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

and therefore may be held as at variance with 
the belief of the impression being universal. 

According to the Theory of Utility, as warmly 
supported by Mr Hume, we estimate the virtue 
of an action and an agent entirely by their use- 
fulness. He seems to refer all our mental im- 
pressions to two principles, reason and taste. 
Reason gives us simply the knowledge of truth 
or falsehood, and is no motive of action. Taste 
gives an impression of pleasure or pain, — so 
constitutes happiness or misery, and becomes a 
motive of action. To this he refers our impres- 
sions of beauty and deformity, vice and virtue. 
He has, accordingly, distinctly asserted that the 
words right and wrong signify nothing more than 
sweet or sour, pleasant or painful, being only 
effects upon the mind of the spectator produced 
by the contemplation of certain conduct, — and 
this, as we have already seen, resolves itself into 
the impression of its usefulness. An obvious ob- 
jection to the system of utility was, that it 
might be applied to the effects of inanimate 
matter as correctly as to the deeds of a volun- 
tary agent. . A printing-press or a steam-engine 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 211 

might be as meritorious as a man of extensive 
virtue. To obviate this, Mr Hume was driven 
to a distinction, which in fact amounts to giv- 
ing up the doctrine, namely, that the sense of 
utility must be combined with a feeling of ap- 
probation. This leads us back to the previous 
question, on what this feeling of approbation is 
founded, and at once recognises a principle dis- 
tinct from the mere perception of utility. Vir- 
tuous conduct may indeed always contribute to 
general utility, or general happiness ; but this 
is an effect only, not the cause or the principle 
which constitutes it virtuous. This important 
distinction has been well stated by Professor 
Mills of Oxford. He defines morality to be, — 
"an obedience to the law and constitution of 
man's nature, assigned him by the Deity in con- 
formity to his own essential and unchangeable at- 
tributes, the effect of which is the general hap- 
piness of his creatures."* — We may safely as- 
sert, that whatever is right is also expedient for 
man ; but the converse by no means follows, — 

* Lecture on the theory of Moral Obligation. Oxford, 1830. 



212 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

that what is expedient, that is what mankind 
think would be expedient, comes to be right. 
We now come to the Selfish System of morals, 
according to which the fundamental principle of 
the conduct of mankind is a desire to promote 
their own gratification or interest. This theory 
has appeared in various forms, from a very early 
period in the history of Ethical science ; but the 
most remarkable promoter of it in more modern 
times was Mr Hobbes. According to him, man 
is influenced entirely by what seems calculated, 
more immediately, or more remotely, to promote 
his own interest ; whatever does so, he considers 
as right, — the opposite as wrong. He is driven 
to society by necessity, and then, whatever pro- 
motes the general good, he considers as ulti- 
mately calculated to promote his own. This 
system is founded upon a fallacy, similar to that 
referred to under the former head. Virtuous 
conduct does impart gratification, and that of 
the highest kind ; and, in the strictest sense of 
the word, it promotes the true interest of the 
agent ; but this tendency is the effect, not the 
cause ; and never can be considered as the priu- 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 213 

ciple which imparts to conduct its character of 
virtue ; nor do we perform it merely because it 
affords us gratification, or promotes our interest. 
The hypothesis, indeed, ma^y be considered as 
distinctly contradicted by facts, — for, even in 
our own experience, it is clear, that the pleasure 
attending an act of generosity or virtue in our- 
selves, as well as our approbation of it in 
others, is diminished or destroyed by the im- 
pression that there was a selfish purpose to an- 
swer by it. 

There is a modification of the selfish system 
which attempts to get rid of its more offensive 
aspect by a singular and circuitous chain of 
moral emotions. We have experienced, it is 
said, that a certain attention to the comfort or 
advantage of others contributes to our own. 
A kind of habit is thus formed, by which we 
come at last to seek the happiness of others for 
their own sake ; — so that, by this process, ac- 
tions, which at first were considered only as in- 
expedient, from being opposed to self-love, at 
length and insensibly came to be considered as 
immoral. This can be considered as nothing 



214 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

more than an ingenious play upon words, and 
deserves only to be mentioned as a historical 
fact, in a view of those speculations by which 
this important subject has been obscured and 
bewildered. 

Another modification of the theories of mo- 
rals remains to be mentioned; — namely, that of 
the distinguished Paley. This eminent writer 
is decidedly opposed to the doctrine of a moral 
sense or moral principle; but the system which 
he proposes to substitute in its place must be 
acknowledged to be liable to considerable ob- 
jections. He commences with the proposition, 
that virtue is doing good to mankind, in obe- 
dience to the will of God, and for the sake of 
everlasting happiness. The good of mankind, 
therefore, is the subject, — the w T ill of God, the 
rule, — and everlasting happiness, the motive of 
human virtue. The will of God, he subsequent- 
ly goes on to shew, is made known to us, partly 
by revelation, and partly by what we discover 
of his designs and dispositions from his works, 
or, as we usually call it, the light of nature. 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 215 

From this last source he thinks it is clearly to 
be inferred, that God wills and wishes the hap- 
piness of his creatures; consequently, actions 
which promote that will and wish must be agree- 
able to him, and the contrary. The method of 
ascertaining the will of God concerning any ac- 
tion, by the light of nature, therefore, is to in- 
quire into the tendency of the action to promote 
or diminish general happiness. Proceeding on 
those grounds, he then arrives at the conclu- 
sion, that whatever is expedient is right ; and 
that it is the utility of any moral rule alone, 
which constitutes the obligation of it. In his 
further elucidation of this theory, Dr Paley ad- 
mits, that an action may be useful, in an indi- 
vidual case, which is not right. To constitute 
it right, it is necessary that it shall be " expe- 
dient upon the whole, — at the long run, in all 
its effects, collateral and remote, as well as those 
which are immediate and direct." 

In presuming to offer a criticism upon Paley, 
I readily concede to the defenders of his sys- 
tem, that is not to be classed with the utili- 
tarianism of Hume and Godwin ; and that it 



216 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

is not, correctly speaking, chargeable with sel- 
fishness, in holding out the happiness of a fu- 
ture state as a motive to virtue. The latter 
part of his system is clearly countenanced by 
the sacred writings ; and it does appear to be 
a stretch of language to apply the term selfish- 
ness to the longing which the sincere Christian 
feels for the full enjoyment of God. In regard 
to the former part of his doctrine, again, it ap- 
pears that Paley meant to propose the will of 
God as the rule or obligation of morals, and 
utility only as a criterion or guide ; though it 
must be confessed that his language is liable to 
much misconstruction, and is somewhat at va- 
riance with itself. The real objection to the 
doctrine of Paley, I apprehend, lies in his un- 
qualified rejection of the supreme authority of 
conscience, and in the mental operation which 
he substitutes in its place, namely, a circuitous 
process of reasoning in each individual, respect- 
ing the entire and ultimate expediency of ac- 
tions. There are two considerations which ap- 
pear to present serious objections to this part of 
the system, as a doctrine to be applied to prac- 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 217 

tical purposes. (1.) If we suppose a man deli- 
berating respecting an action, which he perceives 
would be eminently expedient and useful in an 
individual case, and which he feels to be highly 
desirable in its immediate reference to that 
case, — we may naturally ask, whether he is in 
a likely condition to find his way to a sound 
conclusion respecting the consequences of the 
action " upon the whole, at the long run, in all 
its consequences, remote, and collateral." — It 
may certainly be doubted whether, in any case, 
there is not great danger of differences of opi- 
nion arising, respecting this extended and ulti- 
mate expediency: — and it must be admitted 
that, in the man now referred to, the very cir- 
cumstances of his perception of great and imme- 
diate utility, and the state of desire connected 
with it, would constitute a moral condition 
which might interfere, in a very material de-* 
gree, with his calculation as to its ultimate ex- 
pediency. Upon whatever system we proceed, 
I fear it must be conceded as a fact, that there 
is a singular propensity in the mass of mankind 
to consider their own pains and pleasures be- 



218 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

fore those of other men ; and that this propen- 
sity must interfere with the cool course of mo- 
ral calculation which the system of utility must 
consider as indispensable. (2.) Independently 
of this consideration, we may be allowed to 
doubt, whether any human being can arrive at 
such an extensive knowledge, as this theory 
seems to render necessary, of all the conse- 
quences of an action, remote and collateral. 
This would appear to constitute a kind and de- 
gree of knowledge to be found only in the Om- 
niscience of the Deity. It is, in fact, by giving 
its full weight to this difficulty, that the doc- 
trine of utility has been employed by some fo- 
reign writers, in their attempts to undermine 
the whole foundation of morals. " The good- 
ness of actions," says Beausobre, in his Pyrrho- 
nisme Raisonable, " depends upon their conse- 
* sequences, which man cannot foresee, nor accu- 
rately ascertain." What harmony, indeed, or 
what consistency of moral sentiment can we ex- 
pect from a system, by which man himself is 
made the judge of the code of morals to which 
he is to be subject, and by which his decisions, 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 219 

on a question so momentous, are made to rest 
on those remote consequences of actions which 
he must feel to be beyond the reach of his 
limited faculties. 

If these observations be well-founded, I think 
we cannot hesitate to maintain, that, on such a 
nice calculation of consequences, it is impossible 
to found a rule of morals in any degree adapted 
to the necessities of man. The same objection 
applies to every doctrine which does not recog- 
nise the supreme authority of conscience as an 
original part of our moral constitution, warn- 
ing us of certain conduct as immutably right, 
and certain other conduct as immutably wrong, 
without any regard either to our own advan- 
tage, or to our judgment of the tendency of the 
deeds. Whenever we depart from this great 
principle, we reduce every moral decision to 
what must primarily be a process of reasoning, 
and in which, from the intricate calculation of 
consequences which necessarily arises, there can 
scarcely fail to be differences of opinion respect- 
ing the tendency of actions, instead of that ab- 



220 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

solute conviction which the deep importance of 
the subject renders indispensable. It may 
farther be confidently stated, as a matter of 
fact, that a conscientious man, in considering 
an action which involves a point of moral duty, 
does not enter upon any such calculation of its 
consequences. He simply asks himself, — is it 
right? — and so decides, according to an im- 
pulse within, which he feels to be a part of his 
moral constitution, susceptible of no explana- 
tion, and not admitting of being referred to any 
other principle. I confess, indeed, that I can- 
not perceive how the doctrine of utility, in any 
of its forms, can be reconciled with the princi- 
ple of moral responsibility. For what we com- 
monly call vice and virtue, must resolve them- 
selves merely into differences of opinion re- 
specting what is most expedient in all its con- 
sequences, remote and collateral. We have al- 
ready alluded to the considerations which must 
make this decision one of extreme difficulty ; — 
and how can we ascribe moral guilt to that 
which, though in vulgar language we may call 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 221 

it vice, must very often be nothing more than 
an error in judgment respecting this ultimate 
good. 

In regard to the whole of this important sub- 
ject, I cannot see the necessity for the circuitous 
mental operations which have been made to ap- 
ply to it ; nor can I enter into the repugnance, 
shewn by various classes of moralists, against 
the belief of a process or a principle in our con- 
stitution, given us for a guide in our moral re- 
lations. It is unnecessary to dispute about its 
name, or even about its origin ; — for the former 
is of no importance, and of the latter we know 
nothing. The question relates simply to its 
existence as a mental exercise distinct from any 
process of reasoning, and the only criterion to 
which the question can be referred, is an appeal 
to the moral feelings of every individual. Is 
there not a mental movement or feeling, call it 
what we may, by which we have a perception of 
actions as just or unjust, right or wrong ; and 
by which we experience shame or remorse re- 
specting our own conduct in particular instances, 
and indignation against the conduct of others. 



222 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

Every one is conscious of such a mental exer- 
cise, and there are two considerations which, I 
think, may be referred to as moral facts, shew- 
ing a clear and decided difference between it 
and any simple process of reasoning. (1.) I 
would ask whether, in deciding on his conduct, 
every man is not conscious of two classes of ac- 
tions, in regard to which the processes of his 
mind differ widely from each other. In decid- 
ing respecting actions of the one class, he care- 
fully and anxiously deliberates on their ten- 
dencies, — that is, their utility towards himself, 
or to others whose welfare he has in view ; and 
he reflects on what was the result of his con- 
duct in similar cases, on former occasions. In 
deciding respecting actions of the other class, 
he enters into no such calculations ; — he feels 
an immediate impression, that a certain course 
is right, and a certain other wrong, without 
looking a single step into their tendencies. 
Every one is conscious of this difference, between 
acting from a perception of utility, and from a 
feeling of obligation or a sense of duty ; and it 
would be difficult to prove that any perception 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 223 

of utility alone ever amounts to a sense of obli- 
gation. (2.) In that class of actions to which 
is properly applied a calculation of utility, we 
see the most remarkable differences in judg- 
ment manifested by men, whom we regard as 
holding a high place in respect both of integrity 
and talent. Let us take for example the mea- 
sures of political economy. A conscientious 
statesman feels that he is bound to pursue mea- 
sures calculated to promote the good of his 
country ; but the individual measures are often 
questions of expediency or utility. And what 
an endless diversity of judgment do we observe 
respecting them ; and how often do we find 
measures proposed by able men, as calculated 
to produce important public benefit, which 
others, of no inferior name, with equal confi- 
dence, condemn as frivolous, or even dangerous. 
If there can be such a difference of opinion re- 
specting one class of actions, we cannot avoid 
the impression that there may be similar dif- 
ferences respecting others, whenever the deci- 
sion is left to a simple process of reason ; and 
we cannot but feel some misgivings as to what 



224 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

the state of human society would be, if men, in 
their moral decisions, were kept together by no 
other ties than the speculations of each indi- 
vidual respecting general utility. In any such 
process we can see no provision for that unifor- 
mity of feeling required for the class of actions 
in which are concerned our moral decisions ; — 
and I can see nothing unphilosophical in the 
belief, that the Creator has provided, in refer- 
ence to these, a part or a process in our moral 
constitution, which is incapable of analysis — but 
which proves, as Butler has termed it, "a rule 
of right within, to every man who honestly at- 
tends to it." 

To this view of the subject I would add only 
one consideration, which alone appears to pre- 
sent an insurmountable objection to the doc- 
trine of utility in all its modifications ; namely, 
that any correct ideas of the utility of an ac- 
tion can be derived only from experience. The 
study of the principles of morality, therefore, 
would consist of a series of observations or ex- 
periments, by which valid conclusions might be 
ascertained ; and an individual, entering upon 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 225 

the momentous question, would require either 
to trust to the conclusions of others, or to make 
the observations and experiments for himself. 
In the former case, he could not fail to per- 
ceive the precarious nature of the basis on which 
he was receiving principles of such weighty im- 
portance. He could not fail to remark, that, 
in other sciences, unsound and premature de- 
ductions had been brought forward, even on high 
authority, and allowed to usurp the place of 
truth. How is he to be satisfied, that, in this 
highest of all inquiries, similar errors had not 
been committed. To avoid such uncertainty, 
he mav resolve to make the observations or ex- 
periments for himself, and to trust only to his 
own conclusions. But here he is met by another 
difficulty of appalling magnitude. For a life- 
time may not suffice to bring the experiments 
to a close ; and, during this, he must remain in 
the same uncertainty on the great principles of 
morals, as respecting the periods of a comet, 
which, having been seen for a day, darts off into 
its eccentric orbit, and may not return for a 
century. How can it accord with our convic- 

i 



226 THE MOEAL PRINCIPLE. 

tions of the wisdom of Him who made us, that 
he should have made us thus. 

The foundation of all these Theories of Mo- 
rals, then, seems to be the impression, that 
there is nothing right or wrong, just or unjust 
in itself; but that our ideas of right and wrong, 
justice and injustice, arise either from actual 
law or mutual compact, or from our view of the 
tendencies of actions. Another modification of 
these theories, liable, as it is sometimes stated, 
to similar objection, ascribes the origin of right 
and wrong directly to the will of the Deity, 
and holds that there is nothing wrong which 
might not have been right, if he had so ordained 
it. 

By the immutability of moral distinctions, as 
opposed to these theories, we mean, — that there 
are certain actions which are immutably right, 
and which we are bound in duty to perform, 
and certain actions which are immutably wrong, 
apart from any other consideration whatever ; — 
and that an absolute conviction of this is fixed 
upon us, in the moral principle or conscience, 
independently of knowledge derived from any 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 227 

other source respecting the will or laws of the 
Almighty. This important distinction has been 
sometimes not unaptly expressed by saying of 
such actions, — not that they are right because 
the Deity has commanded them, — but that he 
has commanded them because they are right. 
By this system, therefore, which refers our mo- 
ral impressions to the supreme authority of 
conscience, a principle is disclosed, which, inde- 
pendently even of revelation, not only establishes 
an absolute conviction of the laws of moral rec- 
titude, but leads us to the impression of moral 
responsibility and a moral Governor ; and, as 
immediately flowing from this, a state of future 
retribution. We have already shown this to 
accord with the declarations of the sacred writ- 
ings, and it is evidently the only system on which 
we can account for that uniformity of moral sen- 
timent which is absolutely required for the har- 
monies of society. For it is, in fact, on a con- 
viction of this feeling in ourselves, and of the 
existence of a similar and universal principle in 
others, that is founded all the mutual confidence 
which keeps mankind together. It is this re- 



228 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

ciprocity of moral feeling that proves a constant 
check upon the conduct of men in the daily tran- 
sactions of life; but, to answer this purpose, 
there is evidently required an impression of its 
uniformity, — or a conviction that the actions^ 
which we disapprove in others, will be condemned 
in us by the unanimous decision of other men. 
It is equally clear that we have no such impres- 
sion of a uniformity of sentiment on any other 
subject, except on those referable to the class 
of first truths; and this immediately indicates a 
marked distinction between our moral impres- 
sions, and any of those conclusions at which we 
arrive by a process of the understanding. It 
is clear, also, that this uniformity can arise from 
no system, which either refers us directly to the 
will of God, or is liable to be affected by the 
differences which may exist in the judgment, 
the moral taste, the personal feelings, or the in- 
terests of different individuals. It must be, in 
itself, fixed and immutable, conveying an absol- 
ute conviction which admits of no doubt and no 
difference of opinion. Such is the great prin- 
ciple of conscience. However its warnings may 



THEORLES OF MORALS. 229 

be neglected, and its influence obscured by pas- 
sion and moral degradation, it still asserts its 
claim to govern the whole man. " Had it 
strength," says Butler, " as it had right; had it 
power, as it had manifest authority, it would 
absolutely govern the world." 

In opposition to this belief of a uniformity of 
moral feeling, much importance has been attach- 
ed to the practices of certain ancient and some 
barbarous nations, as the encouragement of theft 
in Sparta, and the exposure of the aged among 
certain tribes in India. Such instances prove 
no diversity of moral feeling ; but a difference of 
practice, arising from certain specialities, real 
or supposed, by which, in the particular cases, 
the influence of the primary moral feeling is, for 
the time, set aside. It is of no importance to 
the argument, whether the disturbing principle 
thus operating be the result of an absurd local 
policy or a barbarous superstition. It is enough 
that we see a principle, which, in point of fact, 
does thus operate, suspending, in the particular 
instances, the primary moral impression. It 



230 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

was not that, in Sparta, there was any absence 
of the usual moral feeling in regard to theft in 
the abstract, — but that the cultivation of habits 
of activity and enterprise, which arose from the 
practice, was considered as a national object of 
the highest importance, in a small and warlike 
state, surrounded by powerful enemies. It is 
precisely in the same manner, that, in individual 
conduct, a man may be misled by passion or by 
interest to do things which his sober judgment 
condemns. In doing so, there is no want of the 
ordinary moral feeling which influences other 
men ; but he has brought himself to violate this 
feeling, for certain purposes which he finds to 
be highly desirable ; and then, probably, seeks 
to defend his conduct to the satisfaction of his 
own mind, and the minds of others. He has 
a distinct perception of what is right, while he 
does what is wrong. There are numerous facts 
which illustrate the same principle, and shew 
the recognition of correct moral feelings, even 
in those who habitually and daringly violate 
them; — as the laws of honour and honesty which 
robbers observe towards each other, — and the 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 231 

remarkable fidelity of smugglers towards their 
associates. In some of the tribes in the South 
Sea, also, most remarkable for their dishonesty, 
it was found, that while they encouraged each 
other in pillaging strangers, theft was most se- 
verely punished among themselves. Need I far- 
ther refer, on this subject, to the line of argu- 
ment adopted in the great question of slavery. 
It is directed to the palliating circumstances in 
the actual state of slavery, not to a broad de- 
fence of slavery itself. Its object is to shew, 
that slavery, under all its present circumstances, 
may be reconciled with the principles of human- 
ity and justice : — no attempt is ever made to 
prove, that it is consistent with these principles 
to tear a human being from his country and his 
kindred, and make him a slave.* 

On this subject we are sometimes triumph- 
antly asked, where is the conscience of the In- 
quisitor, — as if the moral condition of such an 
individual incontestably proved, that there can 
be no such power as we consider conscience to 

* See this subject eloquently argued in Dr Chalmers' 
Bridgewater Treatise, 



232 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

be. But I think it cannot be doubted, that, as 
in the more common cases which have been 
mentioned, the conscience of the Inquisitor 
comes gradually to be accommodated to the 
circumstances in which he has voluntarily placed 
himself. This remarkable moral process has 
been repeatedly referred to. It may originate 
in various causes. It may arise from passion, 
or an ill-regulated state of the desires or affec- 
tions of the mind ; it may arise from motives 
of interest, leading a man by small and gradual 
steps into actions which his sober judgment 
condemns ; or false opinions, however received, 
may be allowed to fasten on the mind, until, 
from want of candid examination, they come to 
be invested with the authority of truth. In 
the moral process which follows, each single step 
is slight, and its influence almost imperceptible ; 
but this influence is perpetuated, and gains 
strength in each succeeding step, until the re- 
sult is a total derangement of the moral har- 
mony of the mind. 

It remains only that we briefly notice the 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 233 

system of Dr Adam Smith, commonly called 
the theory of Sympathy. According to this 
ingenious writer, it is required for our moral 
sentiments respecting an action, that we enter 
into the feelings both of the agent, and of him 
to whom the action relates. If we sympathize 
with the feelings and intentions of the agent, 
we approve of his conduct as right, — if not, we 
consider it as wrong. If, in the individual to 
whom the action refers, we sympathize with a 
feeling of gratitude, we regard the agent as 
worthy of praise, — if with a feeling of resent- 
ment, the contrary. We thus observe our feel- 
ings respecting the conduct of others, in cases 
in which we are not personally concerned, — 
then apply these rules to ourselves, and thus 
judge of our own conduct. This very obvious 
statement, however, of what every man feels, 
does not supply the place of a fundamental rule 
of right and wrong; and indeed Dr Smith does 
not appear to contend that it does so. It ap- 
plies only to the application of a principle, not 
to the origin of it. Our sympathy can never be 
supposed to constitute an action right or wrong; 



234 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

but it enables us to apply to individual cases a 
principle of right and wrong derived from an- 
other source, — and to clear our judgment in do- 
ing so, from the blinding influence of those sel- 
fish feelings by which we are so apt to be mis- 
led when we apply it directly to ourselves. In 
estimating our own conduct, we then apply to it 
those conclusions which we have made with re- 
gard to the conduct of others, — or we imagine 
others applying the same process in regard to 
us, and consider how our conduct would appear 
to an impartial observer. 

This, however, is a most important principle 
in regard to our moral decisions, — namely, the 
process by which we view an action, or a course 
of conduct, in another, and then apply the de- 
cision to ourselves. When the power of moral 
judgment is obscured or deadened in regard to 
our own conduct, by self-love or deranged moral 
habits, all the correctness of judgment is often 
preserved respecting the actions of others. It 
is thus that men are led on by interest or pas- 
sion into courses of action, which, if viewed 



OFFICE OF REASON. 235 

calmly and dispassionately, they would not de- 
liberately defend even in themselves, and which, 
when viewed in others, they promptly condemn. 
This principle is beautifully illustrated in the 
sacred writings, when the prophet went to the 
king of Israel, and laid before him the hypo- 
thetical case of a rich man, who had committed 
an act of gross and unfeeling injustice against 
a poor neighbour. The monarch was instantly 
roused to indignation, and pronounced a sen- 
tence of severe but righteous vengeance against 
the oppressor, — when the prophet turned upon 
him with the solemn denunciation, " Thou art 
the man." His moral feeling in regard to his 
own conduct was dead; but his power of cor- 
rect moral decision, when applied to another, 
was undiminished. 

In regard to the whole of this subject, an 
important distinction is to be made between 
the fundamental principle, from which actions 
derive their character of right and wrong, — and 
the application of reason in judging of their 
tendencies. Before concluding this part of the 



236 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

subject, therefore, we have to add a very few 
observations on the influence exerted on our 
moral decisions by reason, — always however in 
subserviency to the great principle of conscience. 
The office of reason appears to be, in the first 
place, to judge of the expediency, propriety, 
and consequences of actions, which do not in- 
volve any feeling of moral duty. In regard to 
the affections, again, a process of reason is often 
necessary, not only respecting the best mode of 
exercising them, but also, in many cases, in de- 
ciding whether we shall exercise them at all. 
Thus, we may feel compassion in a particular 
instance, but perceive the individual to be so 
unworthy, that what we could do would be of 
no benefit to him. In such a case we may feel 
it to be a matter not only of prudence, but of 
duty, to resist the affection, and to reserve the 
aid we have to bestow for persons more de- 
serving. 

In cases in which an impression of moral duty 
is concerned, an exercise of reason is still, in 
many instances, necessary, for enabling us to 
adapt our means to the end which we desire to 



OFFICE OF REASON. 237 

accomplish. We may feel an anxious wish to 
promote the interest or relieve the distress of 
another, or to perform some high and impor- 
tant duty, — but call reason to our aid respect- 
ing the most effectual and the most judicious 
means of doing so. Conscience, in such cases, 
produces the intention, — reason suggests the 
means; — and it is familiar to every one that 
these do not always harmonize. Thus a man 
may be sound in his intentions, who errs in 
judgment respecting the means for carrying 
them into effect. In such cases, we attach our 
feeling of moral approbation to the intention 
only, — we say the man meant well, but erred 
in judgment; — and to this error we affix no 
feeling of moral disapprobation,— unless, per- 
haps, in some cases, we may blame him for act- 
ing precipitately on his own judgment, instead 
of taking the advice of those qualified to direct 
him. We expect such a man to acquire wis- 
dom from experience, by observing the deficiency 
of his judgment in reference to his intentions ; 
and, in future instances, to learn to take advice. 
There are other circumstances in which an ex- 



238 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

ercise of reason is frequently brought into ac- 
tion in regard to moral decisions ; — as in some 
cases in which one duty appears to interfere 
with another; likewise in judging whether, in 
particular instances, any rule of duty is con- 
cerned, or whether we are at liberty to take up 
the case simply as one of expediency or utility. 
In making their decisions in doubtful cases of 
this description, we observe great differences 
in the habits of judging in different individuals. 
One shews the most minute and scrupulous 
anxiety, to discover whether the case involves 
any principle of duty,— -and a similar anxiety in 
acting suitably when he has discovered it. This 
is what we call a strictly conscientious man. 
Another, who shews no want of a proper sense 
of duty when the line is clearly drawn, has less 
anxiety in such cases as these, and may sacrifice 
minute or doubtful points to some other feeling, 
— as self-interest, or even friendship, — where 
the former individual might have discovered a 
principle of duty. 

Reason is also concerned in judging of a de- 
scription of cases, in which a modification of 



OFFICE OF REASON. 239 

moral feeling arises from the complexity of ac- 
tions, — or, in other words, from the circum- 
stances in which the individual is placed. This 
may be illustrated by the difference of moral 
sentiment which we attach to the act of taking 
away the life of another, — when this is done by 
an individual under the impulse of revenge, — by 
the same individual in self-defence,— or by a 
judge in the discharge of his public duty. 

There is still another office frequently assign- 
ed to Reason in moral decisions, — as when we 
speak of a man acting upon Reason as opposed 
to passion. This however is, correctly speak- 
ing, only a different use of the term ; and it 
means that he acts upon a calm consideration 
of the motives by which he ought to be influ- 
enced, instead of being hurried away by a de- 
sire or an affection which has been allowed to 
usurp undue influence. 

The important distinction, therefore, which 
these observations have been intended to illus- 
trate, may be briefly recapitulated in the fol- 
lowing manner. Our impression of the aspect 



240 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

of actions, as right or wrong, is conveyed by a 
principle in the human mind entirely distinct 
from a simple exercise of reason, — and the 
standard of moral rectitude derived from this 
source is, in its own nature, fixed and immutable. 
But there are many cases in which an exercise 
of reason may be employed, in referring parti- 
cular actions to this standard, or trying them, 
as it were, by means of it. Any such mental 
process, however, is only to be considered as a 
kind of test applied to individual instances, and 
must not be confounded with the standard to 
which it is the office of this test to refer them. 
Right or virtuous conduct does, in point of 
fact, contribute to general utility, as well as to 
the advantage of the individual, in the true and 
extended sense of that term, and these tenden- 
cies are perceived by Reason. But it is neither 
of these that constitutes it right. This is found- 
ed entirely on a different principle, — the immu- 
table rule of moral rectitude; it is perceived by 
a different part of our constitution, — the moral 
principle, or conscience ; and, by the operation 
of this principle, we pronounce it right, without 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 241 

any reference to its consequences either to our- 
selves or others. 



The preceding observations on Conscience, I 
leave nearly as they stood in the second edition 
of this volume. Since the publication of that 
edition, I have seen various discussions of this 
important question, but have found nothing to 
alter the opinion I have expressed, respecting 
the nature and the authority of conscience as 
an original principle in our moral constitution ; 
and I see no system by which we can escape 
from the numerous difficulties surrounding every 
other view of the subject. In particular, I can- 
not perceive what is gained by those who refer 
our moral decisions to a process of reason or 
judgment alone. For by judgment, in the or- 
dinary and recognised acceptation of the term, 
I can understand nothing more than a power 
of comparing two or more facts or impressions 



242 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

together, and tracing their relations. When 
we apply such a mental process to a question of 
morals, it can amount to nothing more than a 
comparison of our conduct with some standard. 
If those who hold the doctrine referred to, 
mean any thing more than this, — if they allow 
the mind a power of moral decision indepen- 
dently of any such standard, then this is precise- 
ly what we mean by conscience, and the contro- 
versy resolves itself, like not a few that have 
gone before it, into a dispute about a name. 
If they do not allow the mind such a power, it 
then becomes them to say, what is the standard 
by which its moral judgments are to be formed, 
and whence it is derived. It appears, I think, 
distinctly, that it can be derived only from 
one of two sources. It must either be received 
through divine revelation; or it must be the 
result of our speculations respecting utility, in 
one or other of the forms in which that doctrine 
is presented to us. There does not appear to 
be any middle course; and accordingly some 
late writers, who reject the latter system, while 
they do not admit the authority of conscience, 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 243 

seem to refer our moral impressions entirely to 
the will of the Deity as made known to us by 
revelation. I have formerly stated what seem 
to me to be insuperable objections to this doc- 
trine. It appears, indeed, to be distinctly op- 
posed by the very words of Scripture, which 
clearly recognise a power, or a process in the 
mind by which " those who are without law," 
that is, without a revelation, " are a law unto 
themselves, their consciences bearing witness, 
and their thoughts accusing or else excusing 
one another ." 

It does, I confess, appear to me, that some 
late excellent and respectable writers, in their 
apprehension of not giving sufficient prominence 
to the doctrine of human depravity, have great- 
ly under-rated the actual power of conscience, 
and have thus injured in a most essential man- 
ner the important argument which is derived 
from the moral impressions of the mind. True 
it is, indeed, that the nature of man is degene- 
rate, and that the effect of this appears in his 
disregarding and disobeying that monitor with- 
in. I am not disposed to differ from the writers 



244 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

referred to, respecting the existence and the 
extent of this degeneracy, but rather as to the 
manner in which it operates in the actual mo- 
ral condition of mankind. I do not say that 
there is in human nature more good than they 
assign to it, but that there is more knowledge 
of what is good; not that men do better than 
these writers allege, but that they have a greater 
sense of what they ought to do. Those who 
maintain the absolute and universal corruption 
of conscience may also be reminded of the re- 
markable differences which are admitted to exist 
in different men, and the manner in which mo- 
ral feeling is gradually obscured or overpowered 
by a course of personal depravity. The facts 
are universally admitted respecting the contest 
with moral principle which attends the first 
stages of vice, and the remorse which follows. 
But after each departure from virtue, this op- 
posing influence is progressively weakened, and 
at length destroyed. In this progress, then, 
we must admit two distinct conditions of the 
moral feelings, — one in which conscience dis- 
tinctly points at what is right, however its 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 245 

warnings may be disregarded, — and another in 
which its warning influence is weakened or lost. 
In the former condition, I think we may affirm 
that it asserts its right and its authority, though 
its strength and its power are departed; and 
it does not appear to be saying too much, if 
we say in the striking language of Butler, " had 
it strength as it had right, — had it power as it 
had manifest authority, it would absolutely go- 
vern the world." 



§ IT.— OF THE HARMONY OF THE 
MORAL FEELINGS. 

On whatever system we may consider the 
moral feelings, we perceive that there are va- 
rious classes of them, — each answering a spe- 
cial purpose in our relations as accountable 
beings. Some of them, we have seen, refer to 
objects of desire, the attainment of w T hich ap- 
pears likely to bring satisfaction. Others lead 



246 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

us to those relations which we bear to our fel- 
low-men. A third class, which remains to be 
considered, calls our attention to the relation in 
which we stand to the moral Governor of the 
universe, and to a certain regulation of the mo- 
ral feelings arising out of this relation. But 
there is still another inquiry of the deepest in- 
terest connected with this subject, namely, re- 
garding the harmony or principle of arrange- 
ment, which these various classes of moral emo- 
tions ought to bear towards each other. They 
all form parts of our constitution, and deserve 
a certain degree of attention, which must be 
carefully adapted to the relative importance of 
each ; and the correct adjustment of this har- 
mony is one of the objects to be answered by 
the moral principle combined with a sound 
exercise of judgment. The rules which, apply 
to it may be stated in the following manner. 

When we consider man as an immortal being, 
passing through a course of discipline to another 
state of existence, it is obvious that his highest 
consideration is his own moral condition, and 
the aspect in which he stands towards the Deity. 



HARMONY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 247 

In immediate connexion with this first of all 
concerns are the great and general principles of 
justice and veracity, as referring to our con- 
nexion with all mankind, and a class of private 
responsibilities which peculiarly regard each in- 
dividual in his domestic relations ; such as the 
duties of children to their parents, and parents 
to their children ; — the latter, particularly, pre- 
senting a class of the most solemn kind, as it 
embraces the concerns of the present life, and of 
that which is to come. Then follow the duties 
of benevolence, friendship, and patriotism; after 
these, the ordinary avocations of life, as the ac- 
quisition of knowledge, and the pursuits of busi- 
ness ; and finally, those personal recreations 
and enjoyments, which, when kept in their pro- 
per place, are legitimate and necessary to every 
human being. These are all proper and lau- 
dable, provided they are kept in a proper sub- 
serviency to each other. But the important 
consideration is, that a man may be acting un- 
worthily of his moral nature, when he devotes 
himself to any one of them in a manner which 
encroaches upon the harmony of the whole. 



248 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

To begin with the lowest of them, it is unne- 
cessary to state how this remark applies to the 
man whose life is devoted to pursuits which 
rank no higher than recreation or amusement. 
It must be obvious to every one of the smallest 
degree of reflection, that such a man is living 
only for the present life. What cannot be de- 
nied of mere amusement, must also be admitted 
respecting a life of business, however important 
in themselves the concerns may be which en- 
gross the mind. They still refer only to pre- 
sent things, and carry not the thoughts beyond 
the moment which bounds the period of moral 
discipline. Even the engagements of benevo- 
lence and public usefulness, estimable as they 
are, may be allowed to usurp an improper place; 
and they do so, if they withdraw the attention 
from responsibilities and duties which belong 
more particularly to ourselves as individuals, — 
such as the duties of parents and of children, 
— and the other claims which arise out of the 
relations of domestic life. Finally, it is ever to 
be kept in mind, that no engagements of any 
description must be allowed to interfere with 



HARMONY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 249 

obligations of the highest interest to every 
man, — those which relate to his own moral 
condition in the sight of Him who is now his 
witness, and will soon be his judge. From 
want of due attention to this consideration, 
year after year glides over us, and life hastens 
to its close, amid cares and toils and anxieties 
which relate only to the present world. Thus, 
fame may be acquired, or wealth accumulat- 
ed ; or, after a laborious ascent, a man may 
have gained the height of ambition, — when the 
truth bursts upon him that life is nearly over, 
while its great business is yet to begin, — the 
preparation of the moral being for an eternal 
existence. 

It is scarcely necessary to add, on the other 
hand, that attention to this first of all concerns 
must not be allowed to estrange the mind from 
the various duties and responsibilities of active 
life. It is only, indeed, when the conduct is 
regulated by partial and unsound motives, that 
some of these objects of attention are allowed 
to usurp the place of others. He who acts, not 
from the high principles of moral duty, but 



250 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

from a desire of notoriety, or the applause of 
men, may devote himself to much benevolence 
and usefulness of a public and ostensible kind ; 
while he neglects duties of a higher, though 
more private nature,— and overlooks entirely, 
it may be, his own moral condition. The as- 
cetic, on the contrary, shuts himself up in his 
cell, and imagines that he pleases God by medi- 
tation and voluntary austerities. But this is 
not the part of him who truly feels his varied 
relations, and correctly estimates his true re- 
sponsibilities. — It is striking, also, to remark, 
how the highest principles lead to a character 
of harmony and consistency, which all inferior 
motives fail entirely in producing. The man 
who estimates most deeply and correctly his own 
moral relations to an ever-present and presid- 
ing Deity, will also feel his way through the va- 
rious duties of life, with a degree of attention 
adapted to each of them. In the retirements 
of domestic life, he is found in the anxious dis- 
charge of the high responsibilities which arise 
out of its relations. He is found in the path 
of private benevolence and public usefulness, 



HARMONY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 251 

manifesting the kind and brotherly interest 
of one who acts on the purest of all motives, — 
the love of God, and a principle of devotedness 
to his service. Whether exposed to the view 
of his fellow-men, or seen only by Him who 
seeth in secret, his conduct is the same, — for 
the principles on which he acts have, in both 
situations, equal influence. In the ordinary 
concerns of life, the power of these principles is 
equally obvious. Whether he engage in its 
business, or partake of its enjoyments ; — whe- 
ther he encounter its difficulties, or meet its 
pains, disappointments, and sorrows, — he walks 
through the whole with the calm dignity of one 
who views all the events of the present life in 
their immediate reference to a life which is to 
come. 

The high consistency of character, which re- 
sults from this regulated condition of the moral 
feelings, tends thus to promote a due attention 
to the various responsibilities connected with 
the situation in which the individual is placed. 
It does so, by leading him, with anxious consi- 



252 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, 

deration, to feel his way through these require- 
ments, and to recognise the supreme authority 
of conscience over his whole moral system. It 
does so, especially, by habitually raising his 
views to the eternal One, who is the witness of 
all his conduct, and to whom he is responsible 
for his actions in each relation of life. It thus 
tends to preserve him from all those partial and 
inconsistent courses, into which men are led by 
the mere desire of approbation, or love of dis- 
tinction, or by any other of those inferior mo- 
tives which are really resolvable into self-love. 

Such uniformity of moral feeling is equally op- 
posed to another distortion of character, not less 
at variance with a sound condition of the mind. 
This is what may be called religious pretension, 
showing itself by much zeal for particular opi- 
nions and certain external observances, while 
there is no corresponding influence upon the 
moral feelings and the character. The truths 
which form the great object of religiou's belief, 
are of so momentous a kind, that, when they 
are really believed, they cannot fail to produce 
effects of the most decided and most extensive 



HARMONY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 253 

nature; — and, where this influence is not steadily 
exhibited, there is a fatal error in the moral eco- 
nomy, — there is either self-deception, or an in- 
tention to deceive others. From such inconsis- 
tency of character arises an evil, which has a 
most injurious influence upon two descriptions 
of persons. Those of one class are led to assign 
an undue importance to the profession of a pe- 
culiar creed and the mere externals of religion, 
— to certain observations which are considered 
as characteristic of a particular party, and to 
abstinence from certain indulgences or pursuits 
which that party disapprove. Those of the other 
class, finding, in many instances, much zeal for 
these peculiarities, without a state of moral feel- 
ing adapted to the truths which are professed, 
are apt to consider the whole as either pretence 
or delusion. 

In their mutual error there is to both matter 
of important warning. It becomes the latter to 
beware, lest, misled by the failings of weak or 
inconsistent men, they withdraw their attention 
from truths of solemn import to themselves as 
moral beings. There may be much pretension 



254 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

where there is no real feeling; but are they from 
this entitled to infer, there is not a reality in 
that which these pretenders counterfeit. By a 
slight gilding, articles of trifling value are made 
to assume the appearance of gold ; but would it 
be reasonable to contend, that there are no ar- 
ticles of intrinsic worth which these are made to 
imitate. The fair induction is, in both instances, 
the opposite. Were there no such articles of 
pure gold, this ingenuity would not be employed 
in fabricating base imitations ; and the hypocrite 
would not assume qualities he does not possess, 
were there not real virtues, from a resemblance to 
which he hopes to procure for his character that 
ostensible value which may enable it to deceive. 
But let those who have detected this deception 
beware of founding upon it conclusions which it 
does not warrant. They have not found the 
reality here, but there is not the less a pure and 
high standard which claims their utmost regard. 
If they search for it either among inconsistent 
or among designing men, they seek the living 
among the dead. Let them contemplate it es- 
pecially as it is displayed in the character of the 



HARMONY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 255 

Messiah : in him it was exhibited in a manner 
which demands the imitation of every rational 
man, while it challenges the cordial assent of the 
most acute understanding, that this is the per- 
fection of a moral being. 

On the other hand, let those, who profess to 
be influenced by the highest of all motives, study 
to exhibit their habitual influence in a consistent 
uniformity of the whole character. It is easy to 
acquire a peculiar phraseology, to show much 
zeal for peculiar opinions, and rigid attention to 
peculiar observances ; and, among a party, it is 
not difficult to procure a name, by condemning 
certain other compliances which by them are 
technically styled the manners of the world. 
But all this, it is evident, may be assumed ; it 
may be, and probably often is, no better than 
a name ; it often amounts to nothing more 
than substituting one kind of excitement for 
another, while the moral being continues un- 
changed. True religion is seated in the heart, 
and sends out from thence a purifying influence 
over the whole character. In its essential na- 
ture it is a contest within, open only to the eye 



256 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 

of Him who seeth in secret. It seeks not, 
therefore, the applause of men ; and it shrinks 
from that spurious religionism whose promi- 
nent characters are talk, and pretension, and 
external observance, often accompanied by un- 
charitable censure. Like its divine pattern, it 
is meek and lowly, — " it is pure and peaceable, 
gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy 
and of good fruits, without partiality and with- 
out hypocrisy." It aims not at an ostentatious 
display of principles, but at a steady exhibition 
of fruits. Qualities, which it cultivates with 
especial care, are humility, and charity, and 
mercy, — the mortification of every selfish pas- 
sion, and the denial of every selfish indulgence. 
When thus exhibited in its true and genuine 
characters, it commands the respect of every 
sound understanding, and challenges the assent 
of all to its reality and its truth, as the high- 
est principle that can regulate the conduct of a 
moral being. 



PART IV. 



OF THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 
TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



The healthy state of a moral being is strikingly 
referred in the sacred writings to three great 
heads, — justice, — benevolence, — and a confor- 
mity of the moral feelings to a reverential sense 
of the presence and perfections of the Deity ; 
— " to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk 
humbly with thy Grod." The two former of 
these considerations lead us to the duties which 
a man owes to his fellow-men ;-— the latter calls 
our attention to that homage of the mind and 
of the heart which he owes peculiarly to God. 
For the duties of the former class we are equal- 
it 



258 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

ly responsible to him, as the moral Governor of 
the universe, but their immediate reference is 
to our connexion with other men ; — those of 
the latter class respect our relation to the Deity 
himself, and consequently consist, in a great 
measure, in the purity and devotedness of the 
mind. In human systems of ethics, attention 
has been chiefly directed to the obligations of 
social and relative morality; — but the two classes 
are closely associated in the sacred writings ; 
and the sound condition of the moral feelings 
is pointed out as that acquirement which, 
along with a corresponding integrity of charac- 
ter, qualifies man, in an especial manner, for in- 
tercourse with the Deity. " Who shall ascend 
into the hill of the Lord, or who shall stand in 
his holy place. He that hath clean hands and 
a pure heart, who hath not lifted up his soul 
unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. 7 ' — " Blessed 
are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." 

Such declarations challenge the assent and 
absolute conviction of every sound understand- 
ing. Are we, as responsible creatures, placed 
in immediate relation to a great moral Gover- 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 259 

nor, a being of infinite purity and boundless 
perfections : — Is the structure of our bodies, 
and the still more wonderful fabric of our minds, 
alike the work of his hand : — Then it is impos- 
sible to put away from us the impression, — 
that each movement of these minds must be 
fully exposed to his inspection. It is equally 
impossible to repel from us the solemn truth, — 
that it is by the desires, the feelings, and the 
motives of action which exist there, that our 
condition is to be estimated in his sight, — and 
that a man, whose conduct to his fellow-men 
does not violate propriety and justice, may be 
in a state of moral degradation in the eyes of 
him who seeth in secret ; — " for," says the 
sacred writer, " man looketh on the outward ap- 
pearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." 

There cannot, therefore, be an inquiry of 
more intense interest, than what is that condi- 
tion of the heart and of the mind which every 
man ought to seek after, when he considers him- 
self as exposed to the continual inspection of the 
Almighty. It may, perhaps, be briefly referred 
to the following heads : 



260 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

I. A habitual effort to cultivate a sense of 
the divine presence,- — and a habitual desire to 
have the whole moral condition regulated by 
this impression. It implies, therefore, sacred 
respect to the character of the Deity, and is 
opposed to every kind of profaneness, or aught 
by which one might weaken, in himself, or 
others, the reverential feeling due towards the 
character, and even the name of the Almighty. 
This must be extended, not to the outward con- 
duct alone, but to the desires and affections of 
the heart. There is a state of mind formerly 
referred to, in which a desire, which the moral 
feelings disapprove, may not be followed by vo- 
lition ; while the desire is still indulged, and 
the mind is allowed to cherish it with some feel- 
ing of regret, or even to luxuriate with a sense 
of pleasure in the imaginary gratification. In 
the same manner, a malevolent affection to our 
fellow-men may be checked from producing in- 
jurious conduct, while the feeling still rankles 
in the heart, in the form of envy or hatred. 
These mental conditions, while they are widely 
at variance with the healthy state of a rational 



TOWARDS THE DEITY* 281 

and responsible being, must be regarded by the 
Deity as constituting moral guilt and moral de- 
gradation. Nor is it only on the mind, which 
cherishes malevolent passions and impure de- 
sires and imaginations, that the Holy One must 
look with a feeling of condemnation. There 
may be another mental condition, in which the 
thoughts and desires are directed to transient 
and frivolous objects, and thus run to waste 
amid the trifles of the passing hour, without 
any feeling of the truths and motives which de- 
mand the attention of moral beings. The pur- 
suits of such a man may have nothing in them 
that is referable either to impure desire or ma- 
levolent affection. They may be the acquisition 
of wealth,— the grasp after power, — the love of 
distinction, — or a devotedness to merely trivial 
occupations ; — while there is a total neglect of 
those great concerns which really demand our 
chief and highest regard. Amid the legitimate, 
and even the laudable pursuits of ordinary life, 
we are too apt to lose sight of those duties and 
responsibilities which attend a state of moral 
discipline, — and that culture of the soul requir- 



\ 



262 THE MOEAL RELATION OF MAN 

ed. as a preparation for the future state of ex- 
istence to which we are hastening. But we 
cannot doubt that these considerations bear an 
important aspect in the eye of the Deity ; and 
that the mind in which they hold not a habi- 
tual influence is contemplated by him as in a 
state of moral destitution. 

There are, accordingly, two classes of charac- 
ters clearly pointed out in the sacred writings, 
— namely, one in whom the conduct indicates 
the depravity within, — and another, in whom 
the external character preserves a respectable 
aspect in the estimation of men, while the mo- 
ral feelings are in a corrupted condition in the 
sight of God. We have formerly endeavoured to 
trace the laws to which this fact is to be refer- 
red, on the principles of the philosophy of the 
human mind: — they are chiefly two. (1.) We 
have seen that there are original principles 
in our nature which lead to a certain exercise 
of justice, veracity, and benevolence, indepen- 
dently of any recognition of divine authority. 
They are a part of our moral constitution, and 
calculated to promote important purposes in 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 26 S 

the harmony of human society ; and they carry 
along with them a certain principle of recipro- 
cal compensation, which is entirely distinct 
from any impression of their moral aspect. 
The man who is deficient in them, indeed, in- 
curs guilt; but a certain discharge of them 
may arise from mere natural, or even selfish 
feeling, unconnected with any sense of respon- 
sibility ; and this consequently conveys no im- 
pression of moral approbation. In the very ex- 
ercise of them a man receives his reward, part- 
ly by a feeling of satisfaction, which, from the 
constitution of his nature, they are calculated 
to yield, and partly as a member of that com- 
munity where they promote peace, and order, 
and harmony; and he is not entitled to look 
farther, or to claim from them any feeling of 
merit in the sight of the Deity. (2.) A second 
principle, which bears an important relation to 
this subject, is the manner in which a man's 
character is influenced by the particular motive 
or pursuit to which he has resigned the guidance 
of his conduct. One surrenders himself to the 
animal propensities, and becomes a selfish pro- 



264 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

fligate, insensible to every right principle of ac- 
tion, while his depraved condition is obvious to 
all around him. A second devotes himself to 
ambition; — and a third to avarice: — These rul- 
ing passions, it may be, are found to be adverse 
to the selfish indulgence and open profligacy of 
the former ; and a character may arise out of 
them distinguished by much that is decent, and 
respectable, and worthy of approbation in the 
eye of man. In a fourth, the ruling motive 
may be the desire of esteem and approbation ; 
and this may, and often does, become a princi- 
ple of such influence, as to overpower, in a great 
measure, the selfish propensities, and to pro- 
duce a character estimable not only for justice 
and veracity, but a high degree of active bene- 
volence. Such a man sacrifices to his ruling 
passion much that might be turned to the pur- 
poses of ambition, avarice, or selfish indulgence, 
by those who are guided by these propensities ; 
and, in doing so, he has his reward. He finds 
it in the gratification of that principle which in 
him has become predominant; and, rather than 
forfeit the esteem of those whose approbation 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 265 

he values, he will submit to much personal ex- 
ertion, and sacrifice much selfish advantage, 
which others might deem highly worthy of at- 
tainment. But all this may go on without any 
recognition of divine authority ; and may all 
exist in a man in whom there is much impurity 
of desire, and much deficiency of moral feeling. 
It is all referable to a motive of a personal 
nature, and, in the gratification of this, his rul- 
ing principle is satisfied. 

The state of mind which is under the influ- 
ence of a habitual sense of the divine presence 
may, therefore, be considered under two rela- 
tions, — the one referring more immediately to 
the Deity, — the other to our fellow-mem The 
former seems chiefly to include an effort to have 
every desire, thought, and imagination of the 
heart regulated by a sense of the presence and 
the purity of God, and in conformity to his will. 
Amid much feeling of deficiency in these re- 
spects, it leads our attention to that interesting 
mental condition, in which there is a contest and 
a warfare within, — and a prevailing opposition 
to every thing that is at variance with the pu- 



266 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

rity of a moral being. The second division in- 
cludes the cultivation of feelings of kindness and 
benevolence towards all men; — the love of justice, 
— the love of truth, — the love of peace, — the for- 
giveness of injuries, — the mortification of selfish- 
ness; — in a word, the earnest and habitual desire 
to promote the comfort and alleviate the distress- 
es of others. From these two mental conditions 
must spring a character, distinguished alike by 
piety towards God, and by high integrity, bene- 
volence, and active usefulness towards man. 
He who earnestly cultivates this purity within, 
feels that he requires continual watchfulness, 
and a constant direction of the mind to those 
truths and moral causes which are calculated to 
influence his volitions. He feels farther that he 
is in need of a might not his own in this high 
design ; but for this he knows also he can look, 
with humble confidence and hope, when, under a 
sense of moral weakness, he asks its powerful aid. 

II. A humble and dutiful submission to the 
appointments of Providence, — as part of a great 
system which is regulated by infinite wisdom. 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 267 

The man, who bears upon his mind this su- 
blime impression, has learnt to contemplate the 
Almighty One as disposing of the events of the 
lower world, and assigning to each of his ration- 
al creatures the place which he occupies. That 
place, whatever it may be, he perceives has at- 
tached to it special duties and responsibilities, 
— and calls for the cultivation of moral quali- 
ties peculiarly adapted to it. Is it one of com- 
fort, wealth, or influence, — solemn obligations 
arise out of the means of usefulness which these 
command. Is it one of humble life, privation, 
or actual suffering, — each of these also has its 
peculiar duties, and each is to be contemplated 
as belonging to a great system of moral disci- 
pline, in which no part can be wanting in con- 
sistency with the harmony of the whole. Such 
a submission of the soul to the appointments of 
God does not preclude the use of all legitimate 
means for bettering our condition, or for pre- 
venting or removing sources of distress. But 
when, under the proper use of such means, 
these are not removed, it leads us habitually to 
that higher power, to whose will all such at- 



268 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

tempts must be subservient ;— and, while it ele- 
vates our thoughts above present events and 
second causes, it reminds us of that great 
scheme of discipline through which we are pass- 
ing, and the purposes which these events are 
calculated to promote in our own moral im- 
provement. Viewed under such feelings, the ills 
of life lose that aspect in which we are too apt 
to contemplate them ; and will be considered 
with new and peculiar interest, as essential to 
that system, the great object of which is to pre- 
pare and purify us for a higher state of being. 

III. A sense of moral imperfection and guilt, 
—and that humility and devout self-abasement 
which arise out of it. This must be a prominent 
feeling in every one who views his own eon- 
duct, and his mental emotions, in reference to 
the purity of God. It naturally leads to sup- 
plication for his mercy and forgiveness ; and, in 
the wondrous display of his character, given in 
the sacred writings, a provision is disclosed, in 
virtue of which the exercise of mercy is made 
consistent with the truth and justice of a mo- 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 269 

ral governor. This dispensation of peace we 
find habitually represented as adapted to man 
in a state of spiritual destitution ; and no men- 
tal condition is more frequently referred to, as 
acceptable with the Deity, than that which 
consists of contrition and lowliness of mind. — 
" Thus sayeth the high and lofty One that in- 
habiteth eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell 
in the high and holy place, with him also that 
is of a contrite and humble spirit,— to revive 
the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart 
of the contrite ones." With this state of mind 
is very naturally associated a sense of moral 
weakness, — and a constant reliance on divine 
aid, both for direction through life, and for the 
culture of the moral being. 

IV. It is only necessary to add, a profound 
sense of gratitude and love towards the Deity 
as the giver of all good, — as our daily preserver 
and benefactor. These feelings will have a spe- 
cial reference to the display which he has given 
of his character, as merciful, gracious, and slow 
to anger ; and to the provision which he has 



270 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

made for the recovery and restoration of his fal- 
len creatures, through " God manifest in the 
flesh." Of this divine person, and the work 
which he came to accomplish, philosophy pre- 
sumes not to speculate , — but we have seen 
the light afforded by the inductions of moral 
science, respecting the probability of this reve- 
lation, — and its adaptation to the actual state 
of man in his relation to the Deity. We 
have seen the impression conveyed by the cha- 
racter of the Messiah, considered merely as 
matter of historical truth, — exhibiting such a 
pattern as never appeared in our world, except 
in him, of a pure and perfect moral being. We 
have seen, farther, the incontrovertible nature 
of that evidence, transmitted by testimony, and 
confirmed, as it is, in & very peculiar manner, 
by periodical observances, on which the whole 
revelation is supported ; — and the inductions of 
sound philosophy harmonize with the impres- 
sions of the man, who, feeling his own moral 
necessities, yields his cordial assent to this mys- 
tery of God, and seeks in its provisions his 
peace in the life that now is, and his hope for 
the life that is to come. 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 271 

From the whole mental condition, thus slight- 
ly delineated, there will naturally arise a char- 
acter and conduct adapted to the feelings and 
principles which rule within. This implies, as 
we have seen, a due regulation of the desires, 
and a habitual direction of them to objects of 
real and adequate importance, — a diligent cul- 
tivation and exercise of all the affections, — and 
a conduct distinguished, in the highest degree, 
by purity, integrity, veracity, and active bene- 
volence. It implies a profound submission to 
the will of the Almighty, which puts to silence 
every murmuring or repining thought under any 
dispensation of his providence. It comprehends 
the habitual suppression of every selfish princi- 
ple, and the constant aspiration after a state of 
moral feeling, which proposes to itself no lower 
standard than that which will bear the inspec- 
tion of a being of infinite purity. This charac- 
ter seems to correspond with that high tone of 
morals enjoined in the sacred writings. Its 
elements are defined and clear ; — would we seek 
to estimate its sublimity and its truth, we have 
only to compare it with those distorted and 



272 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

temporizing systems which have resulted from 
the inventions of men. A feeling of dissatisfac- 
tion, the same in kind, though it may differ in 
degree, will attach to them all ; and there is 
none in which we can confidently rest, until we 
rise to the sublime morality of the gospel. That 
great system of ethical purity comes to us un- 
der the sanction of divine revelation, and esta- 
blished by the miraculous evidence by which 
the proof of this is conveyed ; but it is indepen- 
dent of any other support than that which it 
carries in itself, — consistency with the charac- 
ter of God, — and harmony with the best feelings 
of man. In yielding an absolute consent to its 
supreme authority, we require no external evi- 
dence. We have only to look at the record in 
its own majestic simplicity, tried by the highest 
inductions of the philosophy of the moral feel- 
ings, to enable us to point to the morality of 
the gospel, and to say with unshrinking confi- 
dence, — this is truth. 

If we would seek for that, which must be of 
all conceivable things of the highest moment 
both for the peace and the improvement of the 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 273 

moral being, it is to be found in the habit of 
mind, in which there is the uniform contempla- 
tion of the divine character, with a constant re- 
liance on the guidance of the Almighty in every 
action of life. " One thing," says an inspired 
writer, " have I desired of the Lord, that will I 
seek after ; that I may dwell in the house of 
the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the 
beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his tem- 
ple." — The man, who thus cultivates the habi- 
tual impression of the divine presence, lives in 
an atmosphere peculiarly his own. The storms 
which agitate the lower world may blow around 
or beneath, but they touch not him ; — as the 
traveller has seen from the mountain's top the 
war of elements below, while he stood in uncloud- 
ed sunshine. In the works, and ways, and per- 
fections of the Eternal One, he finds a subject 
of exalted contemplation, in comparison with 
which the highest inquiries of human science 
sink into insignificance. It is an exercise, also, 
which tends at once to elevate and to purify the 
mind. It raises us from the minor concerns 
and transient interests which are so apt to oc- 



\ 



274 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

cupy us, — to that wondrous field in which 
" worlds on worlds compose one universe," — 
and to that mind which bade them move in 
their appointed orbits, and maintains them all 
in undeviating harmony. While it thus teaches 
us to bend in humble adoration before a wisdom 
which we cannot fathom, and a power which we 
cannot comprehend, it directs our attention to 
a display of moral attributes which at once chal- 
lenge our reverence and demand our imitation. 
By thus leading us to compare ourselves with 
the supreme excellence, it tends to produce true 
humility, and, at the same time, that habitual 
aspiration after moral improvement which con- 
stitutes the highest state of man. " The proud," 
says an eloquent writer, " look down upon the 
earth, and see nothing that creeps upon its sur- 
face more noble than themselves ; — the humble 
look upwards to their God." This disposition 
of mind, so far from being opposed to the ac- 
quirements of philosophy, sits with peculiar 
grace upon the man who, through the most 
zealous cultivation of human science, ascends to 
the Eternal Cause. The farther he advances 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 275 

in the wonders of nature, the higher he rises in 
his adoration of the power and the wisdom 
which guide the whole ; — " Where others see a 
sun, he sees a Deity.'" And then, in every step 
of life, whether of danger, distress, or difficulty, 
the man who cultivates this intercourse with 
the incomprehensible One " inquires in his tem- 
ple." He inquires for the guidance of divine 
wisdom, and the strength of divine aid, in his 
progress through the state of moral discipline ; 
— he inquires, in a peculiar manner, for this aid 
in the culture of his moral being, when he views 
this mighty undertaking in its important refer- 
ence to the life which is to come ; — he inquires 
for a discernment of the ways of Divine Provi- 
dence, as he either feels it in his own concerns, 
or views it in the chain of events which are go- 
ing on in the world around him. He learns to 
trace the whole to the same unerring hand which 
guides the planet in its course ; and thus rests 
in the absolute conviction that the economy of 
Providence is one great and magnificent system 
of design, and order, and harmony. These, we 
repeat with confidence, are no visions of the 



276 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

imagination, but the sound inductions of a calm 
and rational philosophy. They are conclusions 
which compel the assent of every candid inquir- 
er, when he follows out that investigation of 
mighty import,— what is God, — and what is that 
essence in man which he has endowed with the 
power of rising to himself. 

To enlarge upon these important subjects 
would lead us away from the proper design of a 
work, which is intended chiefly to investigate 
the light we derive from the phenomena of the 
mind itself. The points which have been stat- 
ed, as arising out of the impressions of every 
sound understanding, challenge the assent of all 
who believe in a present and presiding Deity, — 
a being of infinite power and wisdom, and of 
perfect purity. With him who calls in question 
this sublime truth, we have no common feeling, 
and no mutual premises on which an argument 
can be founded. We must therefore leave him 
to sit in solitary pride, while he views the chaos 
which his fancy has framed, and strives to re- 
concile the discordant elements of a system, in 
which there are effects without a cause, and 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 277 

harmony without a regulating power; and in 
which the mind can perceive no element of cre- 
dibility, consistency, or truth. 

With this slight outline, therefore, we must 
quit a subject of the deepest interest, but which 
belongs rather to the theologian than to the 
inquirer in mental science; — and proceed briefly 
to investigate the means by which the condi- 
tion of the moral feelings, which has been the 
subject of the preceding observations, may be 
promoted and cultivated as the regulating prin- 
ciple of the whole character. Two views may 
be taken of this point, which, though they har- 
monize with each other in practice, are to be 
considered in their philosophical aspect as dis- 
tinct. 

The restoration of man from a state of 
estrangement, anarchy, or moral death, we are 
taught in the sacred writings to refer to a power 
from without the mind, — an influence directly 
from God. We have seen the various consi- 
derations derived from the phenomena of the 
mind, and our impressions of the divine cha- 
racter, giving to this great doctrine a probata- 



278 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

lity which claims the assent of every correct 
understanding. But, without in any degree 
losing sight of the truth and the importance of 
this principle, the immediate object of our at- 
tention, as a branch of mental science, is rather 
the process of the mind itself, by means of 
which a habitual influence is produced upon the 
whole character. This is a compound opera- 
tion which may probably be analysed in the 
following manner. It seems to be composed of 
reason, — attention, — and a modification of con- 
ception. The province of Reason is to examine 
the truth of the statements or doctrines, which 
are proposed to the mind, as calculated to 
act upon its moral feelings; — and upon this 
being done in a correct manner, must depend 
the validity of the subsequent parts of the men- 
tal process. This being premised, it is the of- 
fice of Attention, aided by reason, to direct the 
mind assiduously to the truths, so as fully to 
perceive their relations and tendencies. By 
the farther process analogous to Conception, 
they are then placed before us, in such a man- 
ner as to give them the effect of real and pre- 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



279 



sent existence. By these means, truths relat- 
ing to things for which we have not the evidence 
of our senses, or referring to events which are 
future, but fully expected to happen, are kept 
before the mind, and influence the moral feel- 
ings and the character, in the same manner as 
if the facts believed were actually seen, or the 
events expected were taking place in our view. 
This mental operation is Faith; — and, for the 
sound exercise of it, the constituent elements 
now mentioned are essentially necessary. The 
truth must be received by the judgment upon 
adequate evidence ; and, by the other parts of 
the process, it must be so kept before the mind, 
that it may exercise such a moral influence as 
might arise from the actual vision or present 
existence of the things believed. 

Attention to these considerations will proba- 
bly enable us to discover some of the fallacies 
which have obscured and bewildered this impor- 
tant subject. When the impression, which is 
thus allowed to influence the mind, is one which 
has not been received by the judgment, upon 
due examination, and adequate evidence of its 



280 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

truth, — this is enthusiasm, not faith. — Our pre- 
sent course of inquiry does not lead us to treat 
of the notions which have, in various indivi- 
duals, been thus allowed to usurp the place of 
truth. To those who would preserve themselves 
from the influence of such, the first great in- 
quiry, respecting their own mental impressions, 
ought to be, — are they facts, — and on what 
evidence do they rest which can satisfy a sound 
understanding that they are so. On the other 
hand is to be avoided an error, not less dange- 
rous than the wildest fancies of the enthusiast, 
and not less unworthy of a regulated mind. This 
consists in treating real and important truths 
as if they were visions of the imagination, and 
thus dismissing them, without examination, 
from the influence which they ought to produce 
upon the moral feelings. It is singular also to 
remark, how these two modifications of cha- 
racter may be traced to a condition of the rea- 
soning powers, essentially the same. The for- 
mer receives a fiction of the imagination, and 
rests upon its truth. The latter, acting upon 
some prejudice or mental impression, which has 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 281 

probably no better foundation, puts away real 
and important truths without any examination 
of the evidence on which they are founded. 
The misapplication of the reasoning powers is 
the same in both. It consists in proceeding 
upon a mere impression, without exercising the 
judgment on the question of its evidence, — or 
on the facts and considerations which are op- 
posed to it. Two characters of a very opposite 
description thus meet in that mental condition, 
which draws them equally, though in different 
directions, astray from the truth. 

When a truth has fully received the sanction 
of the judgment, the second office of faith is, 
by attention and conception, to keep it habi- 
tually before the mind, so that it may produce 
its proper influence upon the character. This 
is to live by faith ; — and in this consists that 
operation of the great principle, which effec- 
tually distinguishes it from all pretended feel- 
ings and impressions assuming its name. We 
speak, in common language, of a head-know- 
ledge which does not affect the heart ; — and of 
a man who is sound in his creed, while he 



282 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

shews little of its influence upon his conduct. 
The mental condition of such a man presents a 
subject of intense interest. His alleged belief, 
it is probable, consists merely in words, or in 
arguing ingeniously on points to which he at- 
taches no real value. These may have been 
impressed upon him by education ; — they may 
constitute the creed of a party to which he has 
devoted himself; and he may argue in support 
of them with all the energy of party zeal. In 
the same manner, a man may contend warmly 
in favour of compassion, whose conduct shews 
a cold and barren selfishness ; — but this is not 
benevolence; — and the other is not faith. Both 
are empty professions of a belief in certain 
truths, which have never fixed themselves in 
the mind so as to become regulating principles 
or moral causes in the mental constitution. We 
may indeed suppose another character, slightly 
removed from this, in which the truths have 
really received the approbation of the judgment, 
and yet fail to produce their proper influence. 
This arises from distorted moral habits, and a 
vitiated state of the moral faculties, which 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 283 

have destroyed the healthy balance of the whole 
economy of the mind. The consequence is, that 
the man perceives and approves of truths, with- 
out feeling their tendencies, and without mani- 
festing their power. 

Intimately connected with this subject, also, 
is a remarkable principle in our mental consti- 
tution, formerly referred to, — the relation be- 
tween certain facts or truths, and certain mo- 
ral emotions, which naturally arise from them, 
according to the chain of sequences which has 
been established in the economy of the mind. 
A close connexion thus exists between our in- 
tellectual habits and our moral feelings, which 
leads to consequences of the utmost practi- 
cal moment. Though we have little immediate 
voluntary power over the moral emotions, we 
have a power over the intellectual processes 
with which these are associated. We can di- 
rect the mind to truths, and we can cherish 
trains of thought, which are calculated to pro- 
duce correct moral feelings ; and we can avoid 
or banish mental images or trains of thought, 
which have an opposite tendency. This is the 



284 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

power over the succession of our thoughts, the 
due exercise of which forms so important a fea- 
ture of a well-regulated mind, in regard to in- 
tellectual culture; — its influence upon us as 
moral beings is of still higher and more vital 
importance. 

The sound exercise of that mental condition 
which we call Faith consists, therefore, in the 
reception of certain truths by the judgment, — 3 
the proper direction of the attention to their 
moral tendencies, — and the habitual influence 
of them upon the feelings and the conduct. 
When the sacred writers tell us that without 
faith it is impossible to please God, — and when 
they speak of a man being saved by faith, — it is 
not to a mere admission of certain truths as 
part of his creed, that they ascribe consequences 
so important ; but to a state in which these 
truths are uniformly followed out to certain re- 
sults, which they are calculated to produce, ac- 
cording to the usual course of sequences in every 
sound mind. This principle is strikingly illus- 
trated by one of these writers, by reference to a. 
simple narrative. During the invasion of Ca- 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 285 

naan by the armies of Israel, two men were sent 
forward as spies to bring a report concerning 
the city of Jericho. The persons engaged in 
this mission were received in a friendly manner 
by a woman whose house was upon the wall of 
the city; — when their presence was discovered, 
she hid them from their pursuers ; and finally 
enabled them to escape, by letting them down 
by a cord from a window. Before taking leave 
of them, she expressed her firm conviction, that 
the army to which they belonged was soon to 
take possession of Jericho, and of the whole 
country ; and she made them swear to her that, 
when this should take place, they would shew 
mercy to her father's house. The engagement 
was strictly fulfilled. When the city was taken, 
and the other inhabitants destroyed, the woman 
was preserved, with all her kindred. In this 
very simple occurrence, the woman is represent- 
ed by the sacred writer, as having been saved 
by faith. The object of her faith was the event 
which she confidently expected, — that the city 
of Jericho was to be destroyed. The ground of 
her faith was the rapid manner in which the 



286 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

most powerful nations had already fallen before 
the armies of Israel, — led, as she believed, by a 
divine power. Acting upon this conviction, in 
the manner in which a belief so deeply affecting 
her personal safety was likely to influence any 
sound mind, she took means for her preservation, 
by making friends of the spies. Her faith saved 
her, because without it she would not have 
made this provision ; but, unless she had follow- 
ed out her belief to the measure which was cal- 
culated to effect this object, the mere belief 
of the event would have availed her nothing. 
When we therefore ascribe important results to 
faith, or to any other mental operation, we as- 
cribe them not to the operation itself, but to 
this followed out to the consequences which it 
naturally produces, according to the constitu- 
tion of the human mind. In the same manner, 
we may speak of one man, in a certain state of 
danger or difficulty, being saved by his wisdom, 
and another by his strength. In doing so, we 
ascribe such results, not to the mere possession 
of these qualities, but to the efforts which na- 
turally arose from them, in the circumstances 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 287 

in which the individual was placed. And, when 
the inspired writer says, that without faith it is 
impossible to please God, — he certainly refers 
to no mere mental impression, and to no barren 
system of opinions ; but to the reception of cer- 
tain truths, which, in our present state of being, 
are entirely the objects of faith, and to all that 
influence upon the moral feelings and the char- 
acter, which these must produce upon every 
mind that really believes them. 

On this great subject, much misconception 
appears to have arisen from not sufficiently at- 
tending to the condition in which, as moral 
beings, we are placed in the present state of ex- 
istence, and the important part which must be 
performed by the mental exercise called faith. 
As physical and intellectual beings, we have 
certain relations to the objects by which we are 
surrounded, and with these we communicate by 
means of our bodily senses. But, as moral 
beings, our relations are entirely of a different 
nature ; and the facts and motives, which are 
calculated to act upon us in these relations, are 



288 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

chiefly the objects of faith ; that is, they are 
not cognizable by any of our senses, but are to 
be received by a different part of our constitu- 
tion, and upon a separate kind of evidence. 
This, accordingly, is the simple but important 
distinction referred to by the sacred writer, 
when, in allusion to our condition as moral be- 
ings, he says, — " we walk by faith, not by 
sight ." The objects of sight, here intended to 
express all the objects of sense, exercise over 
us a habitual and powerful influence. They 
constantly obtrude themselves upon our notice 
without any exertion of our own; and it re- 
quires a peculiar exercise of mind to withdraw 
our attention from them, and to feel the power 
of events which are future, and of things which 
are not seen. This mental exercise is Faith. 
Its special province, as we have seen, is to re- 
ceive truths which are presented directly to the 
mind, — to place them before us with all the vi- 
vidness of actual and present existence, — and to 
make them exert upon us an agency analogous 
to that which is produced by objects of sight. 
The next great point in our inquiry, therefore, 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 289 

is, what are the truths which are calculated 
thus to operate upon us as moral beings, and 
which it is the object of faith to bring habi- 
tually before us. 

When we withdraw our minds from the in 
fluence of the things of sense, and send forth 
our attention to those truths which are the 
province of faith, the first great object which 
meets our view is the eternal incomprehensible 
One, the moral Governor of the universe, — a 
being of infinite perfections and infinite purity. 
From the stupendous works of nature, we trace 
his operation as the great First Cause, — and 
infer, with absolute certainty, his boundless 
power and wisdom, and his independent exis- 
tence. The impress of his moral attributes he 
has fixed with indelible certainty upon our 
moral perceptions, — where, in the light of con- 
science, co-operating with a simple process of 
reason, we perceive him to be a being of infi- 
nite holiness, and of unerring truth and justice. 
Our knowledge of these attributes is not the 
result of any process of reasoning which can 



290 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

admit of deliberation or doubt. They foree 
themselves upon our conviction by the most 
simple principles of induction, when, from our 
own mental and moral endowments, we infer 
the perfections of him who formed us. 

From every conception we can form of such 
a being, we have an equally insuperable convic- 
tion of his universal presence, — that he is the 
witness not only of our conduct, but of the 
thoughts and imaginations of the heart ; — and 
that from these, as indicating our real condi- 
tion, and not from our conduct alone, our mo- 
ral aspect is estimated by him, — the pure and 
holy One who seeth in secret. Each moment, 
as it passes rapidly over us, we know is bring- 
ing us nearer to that period, when all our hopes 
and fears for this world shall lie with us in the 
grave. But we feel also that this is the en- 
trance to another state of being, — a state of 
moral retribution, where the eternal One is to 
be disclosed in all his attributes as a moral go- 
vernor. These considerations fix themselves 
upon the mind, with a feeling of yet new and 
more tremendous interest, when we farther 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 291 

take into view that this future existence 
stretches out before us into endless duration. 
This is the truth so powerfully expressed by 
the sacred writer, in terms which by their bre- 
vity convey, in the most adequate manner, 
their overwhelming import, — " The things which 
are seen are temporal, but the things which are 
not seen are eternal." 

These truths are not the visions of enthu- 
siasm; neither are they the result of any pro- 
cess of reasoning, by which different men may 
arrive at different conclusions. They force 
themselves upon our conviction with a power 
which we cannot put away from us, when we 
turn our attention to the solemn inquiry, what 
we are, and what is God. In the sacred writ- 
ings they are detailed and illustrated in a con- 
nected and harmonious manner; and are im- 
pressed upon us with the force of a revelation 
from the Deity himself. But the principles 
there disclosed meet with an impression, in our 
moral constitution, which pleads with authority 
for their truth. It is the province of faith to 
keep these habitually before the mind, and to 



292 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

cause them to influence the feelings and the 
conduct, as if they were objects of sense, — as 
if the Deity, in all the purity of his character 
were actually disclosed to our view, — or as if 
we were present at that dread hour which shall 
witness his righteous retribution. The man 
who thus feels their power, and exhibits their 
influence upon his character, is he who lives by 
faith. 

When, under this mental exercise, a man 
brings himself into the immediate presence of 
the eternal One ; — when he arraigns himself, as 
it were, before the bar of the omniscient Judge; 
— when he places before him that future state 
which stretches forth into endless existence, — 
a train of feelings must urise in his mind, to 
which he was a stranger, so long as he placidly 
resigned himself to the influence of objects of 
sense. He views this being of infinite purity, 
as one who has been all his life the daily wit- 
ness of his conduct ; and feels that even the se- 
crets of the heart have been at all times open 
to divine inspection. Each day, as it passed 
unheeded over him, was a portion gone by of 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 293 

his period of moral discipline ; and each, as it 
glided amid the frivolities of life, or the active 
pursuit of temporal good, had its moral aspect 
assigned to it in the judgment of the eternal 
mind. Along with these impressions, which no 
reflecting man can put away from him, a voice 
within forces upon him the conviction, that, 
were his whole history disclosed to his fellow- 
men, he would, even in their estimation, be 
found wanting. How much more deeply must 
this be fixed upon his inmost soul, when he feels 
that the whole is at one glance exposed to the 
eye of omniscience ; and that an hour is rapid- 
ly approaching, when a strict account must be 
rendered, and a righteous sentence pronounced, 
the result of which will extend into eternal ex- 
istence. With these truths upon his mind, 
what reflecting man can view, without awe, 
the moment which is to close his state of mo- 
ral discipline, — when, disencumbered from his 
earthly tenement, he shall find himself alone 
with God, — and there shall burst upon his asto- 
nished faculties the blaze of an endless day. 
These are not speculations of fancy, but eter- 



294 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

nal truth. The man who habitually acts under 
their influence, knows that his faith rests upon 
a conviction which cannot be shaken, when he 
recognises in all his ways the presence and the 
inspection of the Deity, — when he feels the 
obligation to have even the desires and affec- 
tions under subjection to his will, — and when 
he resigns himself to his guidance and asks his 
powerful aid, both for the conduct of this life, 
and the preparation for the life which is to 
come. 

Solemn is the hour when a man thus retires 
from the tumult of life, and seriously proposes 
to himself the question, — what is his condition 
as a moral being ; what have been his leading 
pursuits in this life which is hastening to a 
close ; what is his aspect in the view of that in- 
comprehensible One, who perceives at a single 
glance the whole details of his moral history. 
Is he safe to meet the full splendour of that 
eye;- — has he no apprehension, that, when call- 
ed to account in the immediate presence of un- 
erring purity, he may not be able to answer. 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 295 

The man lives not, who can appeal to his own 
heart and say, after serious inquiry, that he 
can thus meet the penetrating search of him, 
whose knowledge is perfect, as his purity is in- 
finite ; — the man lives not who can look back 
upon his whole life, without feeling, that, in the 
sight of this unspotted One, he is polluted with 
guilt ; — and if his heart condemn him, with all 
its partiality for his own views and feelings, 
and all its forgetfulness of many points in his 
moral history, he must feel that God is greater 
than his heart, and knoweth all things. Under 
such an impression, to what refuge shall he 
betake himself. Does he appeal to an indefi- 
nite idea of the mercy of the Deity ; — it must 
be evident that this conveys no distinct princi- 
ple, and will not bear the confidence which is 
essential to hope and peace. For we cannot 
go to the extent of supposing a mercy so indis- 
criminate, that the Deity will depart from all 
the laws which he has made, and which he has 
impressed upon us as a part of our moral con- 
stitution. This would be ascribing to infinite 
wisdom an indecision and a change of purpose, 



296 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

unworthy of the weakest human lawgiver. If, 
then, we do not boldly assume this position, 
how are we to draw the line where such mercy 
is to terminate, and where the Almighty is 
to appear in his character of justice, as a right- 
eous moral governor. If we find that each in- 
dividual fixes a different standard, and that 
each extends it so as to favour his own condi- 
tion, it is clear that the system presents no 
character of truth, and that it is incapable of 
ministering to the consolation of him who feels 
his own necessities, and seriously contemplates 
the character of God. He must perceive that 
to apply such reasoning to human enactments, 
would be to represent them as a mockery of 
justice; and that it is impossible thus to argue 
respecting the laws of him who is infinite in ho- 
liness and boundless in wisdom. He cannot 
but acknowledge that a universe governed in 
such a manner would run into irremediable con- 
fusion and anarchy; and will find it impossi- 
ble, on any principle which human reasoning 
can furnish, to arrive at any other decision than 
this, — that the Judge of all the earth must be 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 297 

unchanging in his purposes, and impartial in 
his justice. 

To this conclusion we are led by the clearest 
inductions of moral science ; — but, at this mo- 
mentous point, philosophy fails us. No human 
power can find a refuge, to which the mind can 
betake itself under a sense of guilt ; — no human 
wisdom can answer the inquiry of mighty im- 
port, can God be just and yet justify the un- 
godly. But here we are met by a light from 
heaven, which has burst upon the scene of 
doubt and of darkness ; and are called to bring 
down the pride of our reason, in humble sub- 
mission to the testimony of God. It comes sup- 
ported by a weight of evidence, which challen- 
ges the cordial assent of the most acute under- 
standing, and the power of which will be best 
appreciated by those, who, with sincere desire 
for truth, have made the highest attainments 
in the laws of rigid inquiry. It discloses an 
atonement made for sin, — and an influence from 
heaven, calculated to restore the moral being 
to the purity in which it was formed. It thus 
meets alike the necessities of man, as in a state 



298 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

of actual guilt, and a state of moral degrada- 
tion. For the one, it displays a scheme of 
mercy in which the integrity of the divine cha- 
racter is vindicated, while pardon is extended 
to transgressors. To the other, it offers a 
power from heaven, which will correct the dis- 
orders of the moral constitution, and raise the 
man anew to the likeness of God. It thus 
forms a harmonious whole, uniform and con- 
sistent in itself, — worthy of the character of 
God, and adapted to the condition of man; and, 
to every one who feels his own moral necessi- 
ties, and estimates the purity of the Deity, 
it brings an absolute conviction of its truth. 

A participation in the benefits of this revela- 
tion of divine mercy is said, in the sacred writ- 
ings, to be received by Faith ; and this expres- 
sion has given rise to controversies and con- 
tending systems, which have involved the sub- 
ject in much perplexity. While some have re- 
stricted the operation of Faith to the mere be- 
lief of a certain system of opinions, others have 
referred to it a series of mysterious impressions, 
and enthusiastic feelings, at variance with every 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 299 

dictate of sound reasoning. The principle of 
faith, however, holds so prominent a place in 
the scheme of Christian truth, that some clear 
notions respecting its nature must be felt to be 
of the highest interest. It holds also, as we 
have formerly seen, a most important position 
in the philosophy of the moral feelings, — being 
that mental operation, by which we receive a 
certain class of truths, of the utmost conse- 
quence to us as responsible beings. It is a pro- 
cess which every one feels, but which cannot be 
defined; — and it can be illustrated only by 
tracing its influence in regard to those objects 
to which it is more particularly directed. 

The objects of faith are twofold, — truths ad- 
dressed to the understanding, — -and benefits 
offered or promised. We have formerly had 
occasion to trace the action of faith in regard 
to truth, — especially a class of truths which are 
calculated, when really believed, to exert a 
powerful effect upon our moral feelings and con- 
duct. Its operation, we have seen, is to bring 
these truths before us in such a manner, that 
they exert the same kind of influence as if the 



300 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

facts or events were objects of sense. The 
man who believes these truths, so as thus ha- 
bitually to feel their power, is he who receives 
them in faith. This is the province of faith in 
regard to truth ; — we have next to analyze its 
operation in regard to offered or promised be- 
nefits, and this we can best do by means of an 
example. 

Let us take the illustration of a man affected 
with a disease supposed to be mortal ; — he is 
told that a remedy has been discovered of in- 
fallible efficacy; and that a person is at hand 
who is ready to administer it. Does he perceive 
his danger ; — does he believe the virtue of 
the remedy ; — does he confide in the sincerity 
of the individual who offers it ; — this is faith. 
The immediate and natural result of his faith is, 
that he asks for the remedy which is offered; — 
and this result is inseparable from such belief, 
according to the uniform sequence of volitions 
in every sound mind. The man who professes 
to admit the facts, and does not shew such a 
result of belief, professes what he does not ac- 
tually feel. If he perceives not the extent of 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 301 

his danger, he asks not the remedy, because he 
values it not ; — and the same effect may follow, 
if he doubts either its efficacy, or the sincerity 
of him who offers it. In this case, it is also to 
be observed, that a reflection is thrown upon 
the character of this individual, by imputing to 
him an offer of what he has either not the power 
or the intention to perform. But if the man 
really believes the truths, he applies for the re- 
medy ; and he receives it. Thus his faith saves 
him, because by means of it he sought the offer- 
ed aid. Could we suppose him merely to ad- 
mit the facts, without asking the remedy, his 
belief would avail him nothing. 

Such appears to be the simple view we are 
to take of Faith, when we apply it to the great 
benefits which are presented to us in the Chris- 
tian revelation. This is addressed to us as be- 
ings in a state both of guilt and of depravity ; 
and as having no means of our own, by which 
we can rescue ourselves from condemnation and 
impurity. It unfolds a dispensation of peace, 
by which, in perfect consistency with the har- 
mony of his character, the Deity offers mercy 



302 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

and forgiveness, — and an influence from himself 
which has power to purify the moral being. 
These benefits are conferred on every one who 
believes ; and who is he that believes : — the 
man who is convinced of his guilt, and perceives 
his impurity ; — who feels his inability to rescue 
himself ; — who admits the efficacy of the reme- 
dy, and confides in the sincerity with which it 
is offered ; — this is he who believes. His faith 
saves him; because, acting on his conviction, 
according to the uniform sequence of volitions 
in every sound mind, he asks the promised aid, 
and asking receives it. Much of the confusion 
in which the subject has been involved, appears 
to have arisen from metaphysical refinements, 
by which the various parts of this mental pro- 
cess are separated from each other. They form 
one harmonious whole, which cannot be broken. 
The man will not seek the remedy, who believes 
not its efficacy, and perceives not his moral ne- 
cessities ; but, however he may profess to ad- 
mit these facts, if he follows not out his belief 
to its natural result, by applying for the reme- 
dy, his mere belief will not profit him. The 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



303 



grounds, on which these truths are addressed 
to us, are contained in that chain of evidence 
on which is founded the whole system of Chris- 
tianity, — taken along with the conviction, which 
every man receives of his actual moral condi- 
tion, from the voice of conscience within. A 
sense of the sincerity of the offer we derive from 
our impression of the unchangeable attributes 
of the Deity. Accordingly, he who believes is 
said to give glory to God, — that is, to receive 
his statements with absolute confidence, and to 
form an honourable conception of the sincerity 
of his intentions. He who believes not, rejects 
the statements of the Almighty as false, — and 
treats him with the contempt which we apply 
to one whom we suppose to promise what he 
has no intention to bestow. The man who 
comes to God, with the hope of acceptance, is 
therefore required to come in the assurance of 
faith, or an implicit conviction that he is sin- 
cere in his intentions of bestowing the blessings 
which he offers ; and whosoever has not this as- 
surance does dishonour to the divine character, 
— or " maketh God a liar." 



304 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

It were vain to enter upon the various sys- 
tems and opinions, in which this important doc- 
trine has been misrepresented by its enemies, 
and often perverted by those who profess to be 
its friends. Two of these may be briefly noticed. 
Some have maintained that the doctrine of an 
unconditional pardon sets aside the obligations 
of morality, — because it has no regard to the 
personal character of the individual, — or holds 
out the offer of acceptance to faith, without 
obedience. Others contend that an essential 
part of faith is an immediate and absolute as- 
surance of a man's own acceptance in the sight 
of the Deity ; and that he who has not this is 
in a state of unbelief. These two opinions, so 
different from each other, are equally founded 
upon misconception of the nature and provisions 
of the Christian economy. 

In regard to the former, it is only necessary 
to remark, that the revelation of Christian 
truth is not confined to an offer of pardon to 
the guilty;— its great object is the recovery 
and purification of the moral being ; and there 
is an essential and inviolable union between 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 305 

these two parts of the great scheme of redemp- 
tion. It provides in the most effectual manner 
for the interests of morality, by the purifica- 
tion of the desires and affections, the springs 
of action; — it is the morality of the heart. It 
proclaims a system of morals, more pure and 
more exalted far than ever was contemplated 
by the wisest of men ; — it exhibits an example 
of the perfect state of a moral being, in the 
character of the Messiah ; — and it enforces the 
imitation of this example, as indispensable in 
every one who professes to be his disciple. 
These different parts of the scheme can never 
be separated, and there cannot be a greater 
perversion of reasoning, or a greater miscon- 
ception of the prominent features of the gospel 
of peace, than to allege that it does not provide, 
in the most effectual manner, for the highest 
interests of morality. 

The other opinion is equally founded upon 
error, — namely, that which considers it essen- 
tial to faith, that a man be assured of his per- 
sonal acceptance in the sight of the Deity. 
It is obvious that this is a sophism clearly op- 

M 



306 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

posed to sound reasoning, and to the first prin- 
ciples of the philosophy of the moral feelings. 
For faith, viewed as a mental process, must al- 
ways have for its object facts ; and these facts 
must rest upon such evidence as is sufficient to 
convince the understanding of their truth. 
To talk of faith, without such f^cts and such 
evidence, is a mere logical fallacy, or an absur- 
dity in terms. But there is no disclosure of 
the personal acceptance of any individual, and 
consequently, on no principle of sound reason- 
ing can this ever be considered as the object of 
faith. This doctrine, therefore, applies a most 
important principle of the mind, not to facts, 
which alone can warrant the exercise of faith, 
but to a vision of the imagination, which ad- 
mits of no evidence, and cannot be subjected to 
any test of its truth. 

Widely different from all such flimsy and 
imaginary hypotheses is the great system of 
Christian truth, — harmonious and consistent in 
itself, and challenging the approbation of the 
soundest understanding. It reveals, as we have 
seen, a dispensation of mercy, in accordance 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 307 

with the highest ideas we can form of the di- 
vine perfections. It is supported by a chain of 
evidence, which carries conviction to the mind 
of the most rigid inquirer; and thus it is a 
sound and legitimate object of faith. It reveals 
also a provision for purifying the moral nature; 
and this in every case accompanies the dispen- 
sation of mercy to those who receive . it. The 
effects of this powerful agency, therefore, be- 
come the test and the evidence of the reality of 
faith. Does a man seek a proof of his accept- 
ance, — the reference is to facts in his own mo- 
ral condition. He is to look for it in a change 
which is taking place in his character, — a new 
direction of his desires, — a new regulation of 
his affections, — a habitual impression, to which 
he was a stranger before, of the presence and 
the perfections of the Deity, — and a new light 
which has burst upon his view, respecting his 
relations to this life and to that which is to 
come. He is to seek this evidence in a mind, 
which aims at no lower standard than that 
which will bear the constant inspection of infi- 
nite purity ; — he is to seek it, and to manifest 



308 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 

it to others, in a spirit which takes no lower 
pattern than that model of perfection, — the 
character of the Messiah. These acquirements, 
indeed, are looked upon, not as a ground of ac- 
ceptance, but a test of moral condition ; not 
as in any degree usurping the place of the 
great principle of faith, but as its fruits and 
evidences. As these, then, are the only proofs 
of the reality of this principle, so they are the 
only basis on which a man can rest any sound 
conviction of his moral aspect in the sight of 
the Deity ; — and that system is founded on de- 
lusion and falsehood, which, in this respect, 
holds out any other ground of confidence than 
the purification of the heart, and a correspond- 
ing harmony of the whole character. Such at- 
tainment, indeed, is not made at once, nor is it 
ever made in a full and perfect manner in the 
present state of being; but where the great 
principle has been fixed within, there is a per- 
severing effort, and a uniform contest, and a 
continual aspiration after conformity to the 
great model of perfection. Each step that a 
man gains in this progress serves to extend his 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 309 

view of the high pattern to which his eye is 
steadily directed ; and, as his knowledge of it 
is thus enlarged, he is led by comparison to feel 
more and more deeply his own deficiency. It 
thus produces increasing humility, and an in- 
creasing sense of his own imperfection, and 
causes him continually to feel, that, in this war- 
fare, he requires a power which is not in man. 
But he knows also that this is provided, as an 
essential part of the great system on which his 
hope is established. Amid much weakness, 
therefore, and many infirmities, his moral im- 
provement goes forward. Faint and feeble at 
first, as the earliest dawn of the morning, it 
becomes brighter and steadier as it proceeds in 
its course, and " as the shining light, shineth 
more and more unto the perfect day." 



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